Ember's Tale, Part II: Into Shadow
by Celamity
Summary: Imoen has been taken away, and will only be reclaimed at a price. Somehow, Ember must meet this cost to save her friend, even as she struggles to find the balance between being a druid and being a Bhaalspawn. A walkthrough of BGII:SOA - the 67 first chapters were originally posted on the Gamejag Attic 2007-2012.
1. Chapter 72: Breakout

**Chapter 72: Breakout**

"Wake up, you! Wake up!"

Someone shook Ember's arm.

"Come on, we have to get out of here!"

Ember slowly opened her eyes, wincing against the pain in her head. Her memory was fuzzy; she could vaguely remember being struck by fire, then their captor talking with a golem about... intruders? Yes, that was it. He'd left to deal with them, and she had passed out.

The door to her cage was open. A worried face, pale and thin and with a nasty cut across the right cheek and eyebrow yet infinitely familiar, looked down at her.

"Imoen?" Ember stammered. Her throat was parched. "What's happening?"

"There was a fight... assassins came after our captor, I think. Someone got in here, and when he was killed he fell on my cage and knocked it over. He had lockpicks, and this," Imoen said, holding up a dagger. "Can you stand? You're hurt pretty bad..."

Ember touched her side. Often, their captor would have someone heal her after the 'experiments', as he called them, but he had not done so today; her fingers touched raw flesh where the flames had burned her. Wincing, she called upon her healing gift. A brief surge of fire coursed through her, followed by a flash of blue light as new skin covered the wound. She struggled to her feet and felt herself start to black out; she had to lean on the metal bars of her cage for a moment until the dizziness passed. "I'll be all right. It hurts all over, though," she groaned.

"Yeah, me too, but my head hurts the most," Imoen said. "It's almost like my bones made a little dagger, and it won't go away."

 _A dagger of bone..._

"Hey, don't look at me like that," Imoen said, "it just hurts, all right? Must have been from all the noise."

Ember shook her head in an attempt to clear it. It didn't really work.

"There's someone else locked up over there," Imoen said, pointing at a large cage behind Ember. It was made with bars twice as thick as any of the other cages around them, and a very large man with short, dark hair lay on the floor, asleep or unconscious; Ember couldn't tell which. The two girls hurried towards the cell and peered down at the prone figure inside.

"Minsc!" Imoen cried out. At this close range, no amount of hair and beard could have disguised their friend's face.

"He's become so thin," Ember muttered, noticing to her dismay that several cuts and bruises were visible through his torn clothes. She reached in between the bars and shook Minsc's shoulder. To her relief, he woke up almost immediately, giving her a confused look before sitting bolt upright.

"Minsc must be free! Butts will be liberally kicked in good measure!" Minsc roared. "I will rain beatings down upon all who have dared touch Minsc's witches!"

"It's all right," Ember said, trying to calm him down. "We'll get you out of here, and then we'll all escape and set things right."

"I can't pick the lock!" Imoen complained. "It's been enchanted; we need the key!"

"I tried to help," Minsc said mournfully, "but the bars were too strong to bend. Minsc broke the other cages and the dwarves, so they put me here. I tried to stop them from hurting you. Minsc tried..."

"We know," Ember said. "It's not your fault."

Something rustled in a corner of the cell, and a small, yellow creature peeked out from under a blood-stained scrap of cloth.

"Boo!" Imoen exclaimed.

Minsc picked up the tiny hamster and held him in his palm. "Boo is clever, far too clever for the evil men to find!" he said proudly.

"That he is! I'm glad he's still with you," Ember said. "Look, we'll go see if we can find a key for your cage, and then we'll come back and get you out of there. All right?"

Minsc nodded solemnly. "And if you don't find the key, you must come and take Boo away. He is too young to die in such a pit of stinking evil."

"We **will** find it," Imoen said.

-.-.-

Three doors led out of the dank chamber they were in. The first door the girls tried led only to a small room with a magical portal that Imoen couldn't activate, but the second led to a storage room of sorts. There was a golem inside, telling them to go back to their cages, but it never moved or otherwise responded to them, not even when Ember and Imoen started ransacking the room around it. They came away with a pair of heavy staves, a few healing potions which they wrapped in cloth scraps, and an enchanted key which they hoped would work on Minsc's cell. A set of sharp knifes, some straight, some curved, some serrated, hung from a rack on the wall; neither of the girls were willing to touch them.

They ran back to Minsc. "Let's see now," Ember said, pushing the key into the massive lock on his cell. She had to force the key into the hole, and even though it looked like it was a fit, the lock wouldn't budge. She hit the lock in frustration.

"Let me try," Imoen said. She ran her hands over the lock and key, then pushed the key a fraction further in, twisting as she pushed. There was a small click, then a sound like two rusty swords being rubbed together, accompanied by an acrid smell. The lock fell open.

"Minsc is free!" Minsc cried happily. "Come, Boo, it is time to redeem ourselves!"

Ember handed Minsc one of the staves with a smile. She still ached, and her head still felt muddled, but somehow, that didn't matter so much anymore; in this moment, the only thing that really mattered was that they were all together again. _And that's how we'll make it out of here. Together._

-.-.-

The third door in the prison chamber was the exit - or so they hoped. It led into a chamber that held a couple mephits and a contraption that shot out bolts of lightning; Ember and Minsc beat down the mephits while Imoen turned a large switch on the wall which shut off the lightning machine. A narrow corridor followed the lightning room, and here they found goblins. Half a dozen of the nasty creatures waited for them around a bend, armed with short bows and axes, and quite a few of them managed to score a hit before they were killed.

"I wish I had my spellbook," Imoen grumbled as she looked over the bodies, picking up arrows and an unbroken bow and a few coins. "And I bet you don't have any spells ready either, Em."

"No, none. I can barely even remember the last time I meditated," Ember said, handing a half-full vial of healing potion to Minsc. She'd tried to meditate at night for the first week or so of their captivity, if only to help hold herself together, but there was nothing in their prison for her to focus on, and it hadn't been long before she was too worn down by the daily 'experiments' to even try. "Hells, I'm not even sure I remember how to," she added bitterly.

Minsc gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "You will remember," he said.

After healing their worst cuts and bundling up their scant newfound possessions with scraps of the goblins' clothes, they continued on down the corridor. Soon, they came to a heavy steel door, far too massive for even Minsc to be able to budge. They passed it, and came to another storage room. A golem with no eyes stood inside.

"Master? Is it you?" the golem asked.

"It can't see," Imoen whispered.

"Uh... yes, it is I," Ember said.

The golem believed her. "I have cleaned the sewage chambers and fed your guardian," it said. "Do you wish me to open the door for you?"

"Er, not at present," Ember said, preferring not running into any guardians unless she had to.

"As you will, master. I shall return to my rest." The golem's posture slumped slightly, and it spoke no more. Just like the previous one, it ignored them completely as they searched the room, finding a sword for Minsc on a weapons rack and a few more healing potions on a shelf.

The next chamber, which they reached after killing a pair of mephits, was large and well lit. The light came from a giant glass tank, filled with an odd fluid that glowed bluish white. Long, black hoses connected the tank to large glass jars filled with the same fluid. And in those jars...

Whatever the things in the jars were, Ember hoped for their sakes that they were no longer alive.

"I... I know this room," Imoen stammered. "I've been in here... we both have. Those things, they used to be people..."

"Cover your eyes, Boo," Minsc whispered.

"What kind of monster is this guy?" Imoen continued. "Captures us easy as pie, kills whoever he wants... that could have been us in those glass things!"

Ember let her fingers touch one of the jars. The shadowy figure within shifted, and a distorted grey face with pointed ears pressed against the glass. Stifling a scream, Ember flinched away from the jar.

"Aaaaaa... who be thee... servants of the master?" the face asked. Bubbles of glowing liquid escaped its mouth as it spoke.

"By the gods, what happened to you?" Ember asked. The creature in the jar looked like an ancient wax model rather than a living being.

"I am... dying... or dead... I remember not which. Where is the master?"

"Who is this master?" Imoen asked nervously.

"He was my friend, I think... cast out, and one of us no longer... I cannot remember... are you to take my place?"

"No, friend, we are not," Ember said. _How long has he been trapped like this?_

The figure in the jar seemed to slump. "The master can take nothing more... I am forgotten. Too long... dead but not dead... alone."

"No man will be kept in a jar on Minsc's watch! Tell me how, and I will release you!" Minsc proclaimed.

"Release, yes... Master! I no longer wish to come back! Let me die! Please!" the figure wailed.

Minsc seemed lost in thought for a moment, then nodded. With one swift blow, he cut the hose that connected the jar to the main tank. The glowing fluid inside the jar immediately turned dark. The figure stopped moving.

"He's... he's dead now? That poor, pathetic creature..." Imoen whispered, staring as transfixed into the glass tank.

None of the other people in jars were able to respond at all, and several of them were already dead. Minsc went methodically through the room, severing the hoses that connected each jar to the central tank, and then plunged his sword into the central tank itself. There was a crackling sound, and the glow vanished; the fluid that seeped out of the crack seemed almost like a milky kind of blood. Ember tried to not look at any of the jars as they left the room.

-.-.-

Past the jar room, the corridor turned into a small, goblin-infested maze, which in turn led to a long disused library. From the looks of it, the goblins had ripped up books to use as bedding, and there was dust and debris everywhere. Imoen managed to find a few spellscrolls, which she carefully tied together with a piece of string.

There was a trail of sorts across the dusty floor, and when they followed that, they found a group of dwarves in what appeared to be their quarters, assembled around a bubbling pot of stew on a fireplace. Ember remembered both the dwarves and the stew; the dwarves were always there, attending their captor as he tortured them, and the stew, foul as it was, was the only thing they'd ever given her to eat in this hellhole.

Minsc remembered the dwarves as well. They did not last long against his fury.

After eating some of the stew - it tasted as nasty as ever, but Ember knew it would give them the strength they sorely needed, and they were all hungry enough that it went down easily - they examined the room. "It's a dead end," Imoen said after they'd gone over every wall. "We can't get any further."

"Minsc and Boo will not go back to the cell! Never!" Minsc cried.

Ember sighed. "We'll just have to take our chances with that golem's guardian."

The three of them made their way back to the eyeless golem. Ember asked it to open the doors, and, in a moment of inspiration, she told it to feed the guardian as well. It immediately sprang into action and ran towards the heavy steel door, stopping only to pick up a pair of dead goblins, which it held tightly in one massive fist. Then, the golem pressed its free hand against the door. The door swung open with a soft click, and the golem ran up the narrow corridor behind it. Ember and her friends followed it to a chamber that reeked of sewage. Small streams of dirty water meandered across the floor, and a massive, filth-covered creature with tentacle limbs sat on a large drain in the middle of the room. The golem threw the dead goblins towards the creature, which pounced on them much like a dog chasing a bone.

"Now's our chance!" Ember hissed. Ignored by both the creature and the golem, they ran around the sewage drain towards a much smaller door on the far side of the chamber. Beyond it lay yet another narrow corridor, with a plain wooden door at the far end. They hurried towards the door, and opened it.

The room that they stepped into was utterly different from anything else they'd seen in their prison. Thick, opulent carpets covered most of the polished wooden floor. Ornate wallpaper adorned the walls, and the furniture rivaled that of a ducal palace. A lush garden could be glimpsed through an archway of beautifully carved marble.

"What... what **is** this place?" Ember blurted out, staring at the splendor in disbelief.


	2. Chapter 73: Irenicus's Grove

**Chapter 73: Irenicus's Grove**

After the small group's harrowing trek through filthy, goblin-infested tunnels, few things could have felt more out of place than the lavish bedchamber they found themselves in after sneaking past their captor's guardian beast.

The lush grove that lay beyond the bedchamber, complete with living trees and pools of water, was one such thing.

"It's so beautiful," Imoen exclaimed reverently. "Oh, there is simply no way that this place belongs to the same person that made those horrible glass containers."

"I don't think our captor would rent out space. It must be his," Ember replied. Something bothered her about the grove, but she couldn't quite pin down what.

The grove truly was beautiful, Ember conceded. Its air, suffused by a soft, golden light, was pleasantly warm. Rich grass covered the ground, yielding under their feet like a soft, cool carpet as they walked towards the closest pond. Its surface was perfectly smooth, and bright flowers grew around the rim. There were no streams or springs that Ember could see, but the water was not stagnant; it was as clear and fresh as any mountain brook. Imoen ran her hand through the surface of the pond, disrupting the utter silence of the grove with a slight splash.

 _It's too quiet._

"Boo wonders why there are no little bugs here," Minsc said.

Ember studied their surroundings more closely. The impression of warmth and life was only skin deep, and faded quickly as she looked at the perfectly aligned trees. They seemed to rest uncomfortably in the soil they grew from, and not a single bee lived between their branches. There were no insects of any kind, no birds, no rustling leaves, no trickles of water. The grove was false in every sense of the word; nothing truly lived in it.

"It's not just the insects," Ember said. "The trees would never stand so straight in nature. The water would never be so clear, especially not in a pond. This grove is too perfect, and all wrong. It's... it's a hollow mockery of what it should be."

Imoen nodded, tight-lipped. "It really is his, then," she murmured, and pulled away from the water.

A young girl with pale green skin peered out from behind one of the trees. "Sister, save us!" she pleaded, looking straight at Ember.

"Yes, help us!" someone else added, and a second figure, a slender woman with skin as brown as bark, stepped out from behind another tree.

"Free us!" a third voice cried, and a golden-green face appeared amidst the branches of an apple tree that bore neither flower nor fruit.

Imoen gasped. "They're dryads, aren't they?" she asked. Ember nodded.

"Pretty forest spirits have no place in a den of stinking evil! Boo does not understand! Why are you here?" Minsc asked.

"We are his possessions," the golden-green dryad said. Somehow, she was now standing on the ground before them.

"His servants," added the pale green dryad, also moving out from behind her tree. Her voice sounded like rain.

"His concubines," the brown dryad said. "Please, help us to escape!"

The three dryads were as lovely as the one Ember had seen in the Cloudpeaks, but there was a haunted look in their eyes, and there was an odd stiffness about the way they moved; it reminded Ember of the careful way very old women carried themselves. It was a heartbreaking sight. "What can we do to help?" she asked.

"Sister, if you can leave this place, take our acorns with you. Bring them to our Queen. Tell her of our plight in this creature's lair, so that she may free us," the golden-green dryad said.

"It is many years since we have bathed in sunlight," the brown dryad whispered. "He brought us here, and he keeps us here, even though we cannot affect him. We are supposed to instill emotion, but he is barren inside. I do not know what he expects!"

"Irenicus searches for something he cannot find, and he looks within those that have no more idea than he," the pale green dryad added.

"Irenicus..." Imoen muttered. "So, that's his name."

The dryad nodded. "A name that is synonymous with death and ugliness."

"No," Imoen said in a faraway voice, "death sounds different. He showed me... he..." She shook her head violently, and looked like she was about to pass out. Ember and Minsc rushed to her side to support her. "I don't want to think about it! I just want to go home," she lamented, rubbing her temples with the palms of her hands.

 _What did that monster do to her?_ "We'll go home," Ember said quietly, stroking Imoen's head. "I'll get you home. I promise."

"Minsc and Boo promise as well," Minsc said in an uncharacteristically low voice.

Ember turned towards the dryads. "Where can we find your Queen?" she asked.

"In the south end of the Windspear Hills," the pale green one replied. "She dwells near a lake there, along with our sisters. When you are near, our acorns will lead you to her." She headed towards one of the oak trees and whispered into a branch; the other two dryads followed suit. A faint light surrounded them as they each plucked a tiny, glowing acorn from their trees. The light faded fast; by the time they handed the acorns to Ember, the glow was already gone.

"We will help you escape," the pale green dryad told them. "You must pass through a portal to continue. One of the keys to it is kept in Her room. Follow, and I will take you there."

The two other dryads remained behind while the pale green one led the small group deeper into the grove, past more quiet pools and flowerless trees, to a wall of dark rock. An archway of carved marble, identical to the one they had entered through, was set in the wall, and beyond it lay a circular chamber, even more stunning than its counterpart on the other side of the grove. Intricately designed branches curved all over the walls and across the vaulted ceiling and around a window that looked out at a mass of black rock. A large bed with sheets of rosy silk dominated the room; gauzy drapes decorated its headboard. Similar drapes covered most of the useless window and adorned the sides of a large silvered mirror. Dressers and chests and wardrobes, carved from the same dark wood as the bed, lined most of the walls, and a thick carpet covered the entire floor.

It was a bedchamber fit for a queen. And it had never been used.

"We come here sometimes, to look at Her things," the dryad said, carefully picking up a leaf-shaped glass vial that lay on a dresser. "She was a lost love; this is his monument to Her, perfect in every detail."

Imoen ran her fingers over a silken cushion. "He talked about her, sometimes. He'd talk about her while... while he..." Her voice fell almost to a whisper. "His voice was cold... No emotion at all, not even remembered. If he could care for anything, he would care for this room, but he doesn't. It means nothing to him. And we mean even less. It makes me sick. I hate him, Em. I really, really hate him."

Ember took Imoen's hand and squeezed it tight. _He will pay for what he's done to her. To us all._

-.-.-

The lady's bedchamber contained little of interest; the dresser and table were littered with perfume vials and other little ornaments, and the portal key was kept in a small compartment in the nightstand, but there was nothing in the chests, drawers and wardrobes. They were all empty, waiting for the belongings of a woman who would never arrive.

Having secured the key, the three of them followed the dryad back to the other bedchamber. She showed them another doorway, smaller and far less conspicuous than the marble archways. "The portal lies beyond that door," the dryad told them. "I can go no further; I must remain by my tree."

"I understand," Ember said, wondering how Irenicus had managed to imprison the dryads. _How did he bring them here without killing them? How could he move their trees without them wilting?_ "Thank you for your help."

The dryad almost smiled. "It is we who must thank you; it is a noble thing you are doing for us. Go now. May the forest always open a path for you!"

As the dryad returned to her tree and her sisters, Ember started opening the drawers in the chamber they stood in. They were all empty. Even though the room did look like it'd been put to some use, there wasn't a single personal item in it, not even clothing. Imoen found a pile of blank scrolls in a desk, but not a single actual document.

"Clever Boo! Look what he has found!" Minsc opened a glass cabinet in a corner and pulled an intricately decorated helmet out of it.

"Oh, that's a nice one! Let me take a look," Imoen said. She accepted the helmet from Minsc and looked closely at it, running her fingers over the markings. "Hmm... it's enchanted, that's for sure. No curses, just powerful blessings. I don't think he's used it as anything but decoration, either," she pronounced. "Try it on!"

Imoen handed the helmet back to Minsc, who put it on. "Ahh, now this is a helmet fit for heroes!" Minsc exclaimed, beaming. Ember smiled at their large friend; even with his tattered clothes and wild hair, he did seem more like a hero with the enchanted helmet on. He looked stronger and healthier; he stood straighter. With the helmet on, Minsc almost seemed like himself again.

Satisfied that there was nothing else to learn or gain from the chamber, Ember led Imoen and Minsc through the small door into a dark room, lit only by the wavering glow of a magical portal. It was identical to the one they had found near their cells.

"You don't think it'll lead back to our cells, do you?" Imoen asked nervously.

 _Gods, I hope not._ "Only one way to find out," Ember muttered. "Do your thing."

Imoen raised the key and pressed it against the portal. The surface rippled for a moment, then turned into a golden mist. "Everyone ready?" she asked.

Linking hands, the three friends stepped into the hazy opening. Golden mist surrounded them for a moment, then faded away to reveal what looked to be a simple storage room, littered with crates. The room was poorly lit and quite a bit colder than the chambers on the other side. A short man dressed in faded browns sat on one of the larger crates in a corner. The moment he saw them, he sprang up and drew a curved blade, assuming a defensive stance.

"Who stands before me?" the man asked.

"We've been held captive here," Ember said warily. "We are trying to get out. Do you intend to stop us?"

The man relaxed and lowered his blade. "Then your situation is as mine! If you are not in league with the evil that dwells in this unholy place, Yoshimo begs your assistance."

"How is it you come to be here, little man?" Minsc asked.

"I am not sure," the man said, scratching his head. "All I remember is going to bed in my room at the Copper Coronet one evening, only to awake imprisoned in a strange room with a very sore head. I freed myself and went in search for an exit, but the very next chamber I entered was full of small, cackling fiends that tried to kill me. I managed to elude most of them and escape into this room, but they still await me beyond that door." He pointed down a dark corridor. "There were no exits where you came from, I presume?"

"There was another magical portal, but I'm don't really think we could get back to it," Imoen said. "We tricked a golem into opening some doors for us, and I'm pretty sure it closed them behind us."

"Ah, an inspired feat!" Yoshimo said.

"So, what kind of creatures were your little fiends?" Ember asked.

"I will show you." The man moved towards the corridor. "This one followed me in here," he said, nudging what looked like a pile of twigs and frozen leather with his foot.

Imoen bent down and examined the bundle. "Ew, it's a mephit. Ice mephit, by the looks of it."

"We killed some of those earlier," Ember told Yoshimo. "Maybe we could get past them together?"

"Four may well succeed where one failed! I shall be happy to lend my blade to our shared cause." Yoshimo bowed slightly, then gave them a broad smile. "Now, by what names shall I call my new companions?"


	3. Chapter 74: Out of the Frying Pan

**Chapter 74: Out of the Frying Pan**

There had been a half dozen mephits in the chamber. They were all dead.

So were the extra nine or so mephits that had materialized under a small metal cage thing in the middle of the room before Minsc had managed to smash it. The portal had been a very nasty surprise, but then again, this entire place was one big nasty surprise after another.

Imoen only wished she could have done more.

If she'd had her wands and spellbook, she could have blasted the entire room with fire and lightning and then blown up the surviving mephits with blasts of cold. As it was, she had used one of her few scrolls - a fireball one - to kill a couple of the mephits and hurt a couple more, and then she'd spent the rest of the fight firing arrows from the doorway while Ember and Minsc and Yoshimo had fought the ugly things up close.

"If only I had my spellbook," she grumbled out loud.

"Hey, it wasn't that bad," Ember said, smiling a little with her mouth but not with her eyes as she uncorked a healing potion. There was a large burn on her left arm. "Besides, it's done now."

 _But_ _ **we**_ _aren't done yet. Not by far._

"Boo is tired of mephits," Minsc announced. "They make his fur stand on end. Little Yoshimo, will there be more?"

"Not that I know of, my large friend," Yoshimo said, wiping ichor off his katana with a scrap of cloth, "but then again, I have only seen this chamber and the next. Still, one can be hopeful, can one not?"

Minsc grinned. "Boo likes the way you think!"

The floor shook with a distant explosion. Imoen couldn't tell where it came from. She didn't like it.

"We should get moving," Ember said. She looked worried.

Yoshimo nodded. "Follow me. There were no creatures in the next chamber when I was there, but I must warn you: it is not a pleasant place," he said.

He was right.

For the most part, there was nothing really wrong with the room. A well-stacked bookshelf stood in one corner, next to a shelf full of potions and powders. There were several workbenches in the room, each holding its own pile of equipment. It looked just like the kind of wizard's study you could see anywhere, except for the dead man that lay splayed across one of the workbenches. He was cut open, and most of his innards had been scooped out.

"Boo is too young for all this!" Minsc gasped, clutching the hamster to his chest.

"I was imprisoned in there," Yoshimo said quietly, pointing at a half-open door that led to a small, empty room. "They had taken my katana and other belongings, but fortunately, they did not find the spare lockpick in my boot. I escaped and reclaimed my possessions from one of these tables. Then, I noticed ...him." He winced.

"Maybe you were to be next," Ember muttered.

Yoshimo smiled weakly. "Who can say?"

Imoen couldn't take her eyes off the body. "At least he didn't suffer," she whispered to herself. She remembered it now; their captor - Irenicus - had taken her to this room, and the man had been on the table, already dead. Then, he'd made her watch as he cut the body open. He'd cut and ask 'Do you see?', cut and ask again, but she didn't see and she didn't understand and she didn't know what he wanted. Why had he shown her this poor man? Why had he made her watch as he reduced the man to a pile of wobbly red pieces of meat? Why couldn't she stop thinking about it?

A loud crash somewhere nearby shook her out of her unpleasant reverie. It wasn't an explosion; it sounded more like glass shattering.

"What was that?!" Ember asked. A second crash answered her.

"It sounds like it's in the next room," Imoen said. "I'll go look." A nervous knot blossomed in her belly as she tiptoed past the disemboweled man and down a narrow corridor. There was a third crash. For a moment, she wanted to turn back and just wait in the nightmarish study. _But we have to get past it, no matter what,_ she reminded herself. _Better to find out as soon as possible._

The sounds were coming from a doorway ahead and to Imoen's left. Moving as stealthily as she could, she approached the doorway and looked into the room.

Ten large glass jars, a lot like the ones they'd seen earlier, were lined up along the walls. Four of them were broken, and a thing that looked like a controller was broken, too. A dead man lay in a large puddle of milky fluid on the floor; from the look of it, he'd been shoved into one of the shattered jars. A naked elf woman stood over him, clumsily holding the hilt of a broken sword - had she taken it from him, perhaps? She was so very pale, and it looked like she was drenched in the fluid; her golden hair hung in slimy strands that clung to her shoulders. Her eyes were very dark and looked glazed.

"Not her. Not her!" the woman cried, and hit another of the jars with the sword hilt. It shattered with yet another loud crash, spraying her and the dead man and the room with a fresh layer of the nasty fluid.

 _She's mad!_ Imoen carefully backed away from the door and beckoned to the others to come, then peered into the room again just in time to see the woman smash the seventh jar.

This time, the woman noticed her. "No more!" she screamed, and brought the hilt down on the surface of the eighth jar. Her hands were bleeding. "I am not her! I am not! We are not!"

"Who... who are you then?" Yoshimo asked, coming up behind Imoen. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

The ninth jar exploded in a shower of glass shards. The woman glared at Yoshimo. "Do for me? Do for me?!"

"Perhaps if you calm yourself," Ember said, "we could help -"

The woman smashed the last of the jars. "Never again!" she laughed. "No more death to rise again not her!" Then, she plunged the broken stump of the blade into her own neck.

Nobody said anything.

"What... what is this madness?" Yoshimo finally asked, sounding very shaken.

"Look at the jars," Ember whispered.

Other women were floating in the remains of the jars. They almost looked like they were sleeping, but they were all dead, and they all looked just like the crazy woman.

"They're all copies," Imoen stammered. A horrible thought occurred to her. "They're copies of her, the woman he loved, aren't they?"

"I think so. I can't see who else they could be," Ember said quietly.

Imoen stepped away from the doorway. It was too much. "Let's just get out of here," she groaned.

Another distant explosion made the ground tremble. Tiny waves ran across the red-streaked fluid on the floor.

-.-.-

The next stretch of corridor was very long, very plain, and blissfully empty. There were traps here and there, but Imoen spotted them easily, and Yoshimo helped her disarm them. The four of them talked as they walked. Yoshimo thought they might be in or near Athkatla, and told them about the city. It felt strange, talking about normal places and things, but it was comforting, too; together with the the bland non-creepiness of the tunnels they were walking through, it almost made Imoen feel like herself again.

It'd been spring in Athkatla when Yoshimo was whisked away. The news had come as a shock even though it shouldn't have; after all, Minsc couldn't have grown that hair and beard in a week. There was her own hair as well, which was constantly getting in her eyes, and Ember's hair, which had grown well past her shoulders. _It just was easier to ignore what that meant, I suppose,_ Imoen mused as they crossed a narrow walkway that spanned a giant sewer pipe. She didn't like the thought of having lost an entire season, not even winter, which was her least favourite.

She reached up and touched the gap in her eyebrow where it'd been cut. They'd all changed so much, hadn't they? Scars both inside and out, little white lines that didn't really tell the truth about themselves. Minsc looked at every shadow with suspicion; he'd never been so jumpy before. Ember kept herself busy with trying to find the way out, but whenever they slowed down for a moment, Imoen noticed a kind of lost look in her friend's eyes. Did her own eyes look like that, too?

She shook her head. This wasn't what she wanted to think about.

"Being caught unaware like that... it's quite embarrassing," she heard Yoshimo tell Ember. "My profession does not leave itself open to those who are not wary."

"And what is your profession?" Ember asked.

"As I told you, I am Yoshimo!" Yoshimo said with a grin. "If you need it, I will find it. If you want it, I will obtain it. None in Athkatla are stealthier, more dashing, or more skilled with a blade. I can dance on the head of a pin, as well!"

Ember giggled, as did Imoen. It felt very good. A smile crept across Imoen's face and stayed there as she listened to Yoshimo talk about how he'd come from the distant Kara-Tur, bravely seeking his fortune.

-.-.-

The not so distant explosion made dust and bits of plaster fall from the ceiling and made Imoen's heart try to jump out of her throat.

"We're getting closer," Ember muttered beside her.

 _But to what?_ Imoen wondered. They'd already passed places where there were little craters in the floor and scorch marks on the walls and ceiling, and they'd seen at least a dozen dead men with masks. Irenicus had to have been here, and not too long ago, either.

There was a white light ahead of them in the middle of a pile of rubble.

"What's that light?" she asked just as another explosion shook the corridor they were in. Large chunks fell away from the pile of rubble, and they were suddenly flooded with light. Imoen's eyes flooded with water as she squinted against the blinding whiteness.

Minsc roared with joy. "Look, little witches! It is daylight!"

 _It's so bright!_ Laughing, Imoen ran towards the hole in the wall with her friends, squinting and wiping her eyes. _Oh, it's wonderful!_ They were almost at the opening...

"Wait," Yoshimo said quietly, and held her back by her arm.

Imoen blinked confusedly. "But -"

"Look."

Blinking and squinting a bit more, she could make out several figures standing outside the opening. They were throwing spells and shouting at each other. The closest of them stood just outside, with his back facing them. Her blood ran cold.

"It's **him** ," Ember muttered.

Imoen reached for her bundle of spellscrolls. She was not going to let him hurt them again!

Irenicus turned halfway towards them. "So, you have escaped," he said in that horrible cold indifferent voice of his. "You are more resourceful than I thought."

"You're not going to torture us any longer," Imoen growled.

"Torture? Silly girl, you just don't understand what I'm doing, do you?" He turned to cast a spell at someone else outside.

"I don't care what you're doing!" Imoen shouted, and started reading the spell from the scroll she'd picked. A jet of flames shot from her hands and straight towards Irenicus's back.

He didn't as much as flinch. "Enough," he said, and casually flung a cluster of magic missiles at Imoen. They hit her chest, one after another, and knocked her to the ground. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Ember screamed. Minsc roared. Others were shouting. Why was everyone shouting? Air. Air!

She drew a deep, painful breath.

"You will cease your spellcasting and come with us!" someone shouted.

"You bore me, mageling," Irenicus said. "You may take me in, but you **will** take the girl as well!"

 _Girl? What girl?_

Ember shouted at someone. Unfamiliar hands grabbed Imoen by the arms and picked her up.

"Wait! No!"

They didn't listen.

A dimension door opened up in front of her and swallowed her whole.


	4. Chapter 75: Without a Trace

**Chapter 75: Without a Trace**

Imoen was gone.

The robed men who'd shouted about an illegal magical disturbance had vanished, taking both Irenicus and Imoen with them. Imoen had been part of the disturbance, they'd said, and then they had dragged her through a dimension door before Ember could make a single move to stop them.

"No! This cannot be!" Minsc roared.

Ember fell to her knees on a pile of rubble. They were surrounded by broken bricks and shattered beams; it looked like an entire building had collapsed around them. "Who... who were they?" she asked helplessly.

"Cowled Wizards, I believe," Yoshimo said quietly.

Ember recalled Yoshimo mentioning the Cowled Wizards of Athkatla. He had told them about how this group of mages regulated all use of arcane magic in the city, requiring every spellcaster to buy an expensive license from them, thus filling their own coffers. "You didn't tell us they might take her!" she shouted.

"I did not know they might do that. I am sorry."

"It was only one spell," Ember mumbled to herself. A single white brick lay in a puddle in front of her.

"We must find little Imoen and bring her back!" Minsc cried. "All that is goodness cries out for this! Even little Boo, although he cannot cry out quite so loudly." The giant ranger sniffled and wiped his eyes.

"We will, my friend," Yoshimo said, patting Minsc's arm. "Ember, as I told you, I have considerable skill and expertise when it comes to such matters. I would be honoured to assist you in reclaiming young Imoen."

"Thank you," she muttered, staring at the puddle. Imoen's bundle of scrolls lay beside it, abandoned. One of the scrolls had mud stains along its edge.

"This will not do," Yoshimo muttered. "Come, good Minsc, and help me get her up. We should not stay here."

Ember didn't protest as the two men lifted her to her feet. She watched wordlessly as Yoshimo sold a couple of Imoen's spellscrolls at a booth, then let herself be taken to a nearby inn Yoshimo knew about, a place called the Seven Vales. The female proprietor was surly towards Minsc and Yoshimo, but treated Ember kindly. After a few minutes' haggling between the innkeeper and Yoshimo, Ember was shown to a small room with a tub of hot water, soap, and towels. She took off her ragged clothes, got in the tub, and mechanically scrubbed dirt and filth from her skin. As she toweled herself dry, a maid brought a set of new clothes, made from plain brown cloth but whole and clean. She put them on. A simple pair of boots that didn't fit too badly awaited outside the bath chamber.

Minsc and Yoshimo were in the inn's dining room, sitting at a small table with a fresh loaf of bread and three bowls of stew between them. Minsc was wearing brown clothes similar to Ember's; he had shaved off his hair and beard, revealing his familiar face and a couple new scars. Ember joined them at the table and cut herself a slice from the bread.

The bread was still warm, and very soft. She pulled a small piece from her slice and put it in her mouth. Closing her eyes and chewing very slowly, Ember let herself savour every aspect of its texture and smell and flavour. It was the best thing she had ever tasted.

 _It's just the kind of bread Imoen loves, especially when it's still warm and has a pat of butter on it..._

She burst into tears.

-.-.-

The small group spent the following morning waiting in line at the Council of Six building, the seat of the Athkatlan government. It was a confusing place; guards and clerks pointedly ignored them, and at least twice, Ember noticed the clerks letting some wealthier-looking people jump the lines. She commented on this to Yoshimo, who reminded her that money ruled the City of Coin.

After two hours of standing in line behind a halfling farmer whose farm had been listed and taxed as a castle, a dour-faced official informed Ember that she had been standing in the wrong line; she needed to present her problem directly to the magistrate, Bylanna Lanulin, and not waste his valuable time with matters that had nothing to do with estates or taxes. She bit back a rude response and led Minsc and Yoshimo towards a much shorter line in front of the magistrate's office. A few minutes later, an armoured guard let them in.

The magistrate was a formidable looking woman in her early forties. She sat behind a massive oak desk, surrounded by a small army of clerks and scribes. "Good business to you," she greeted them, not unpleasantly, and gestured for them to sit down on a bench in front of her desk. "Is there aught that I can help you with?"

"A friend of mine, Imoen, was taken captive by the Cowled Wizards," Ember said. "Is there anything I can do to free her?"

"When did this take place?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

"Jenthly, would you...? Ah, thank you," the magistrate said as one of her clerks handed her a folder. She quickly leafed through it and pulled out a document. "You said her name was Imoen, correct?" Ember nodded.

"I see. It appears your friend used magic within the city limits. You are aware that this is a violation of Amnish law? We do not allow magic-users to go unchecked."

"But -" Ember started. The magistrate raised her hand.

"My good woman, did you not see the result of your friend's battle in the Promenade? An entire section collapsed!"

"But Imoen didn't do that!" Ember protested. "That was another wizard! We got there at the end of the battle, and all she did was cast one single spell, to defend herself from him!"

"Little Imoen is not an evil sorceress!" Minsc added.

"Another wizard or your Imoen, it matters not. She used magic... the Cowled Wizards cannot stop to sort out who was directly responsible for the damage. But if she is a good and responsible user of her abilities, then I imagine that her rehabilitation would... not take long," the magistrate said.

"Rehabilitation?" Ember asked incredulously. "For what? For casting one single spell without a license?"

"Calm yourself," the magistrate said. "I will not lie to you; normally, we do not concern ourselves overmuch with the prisoners the wizards take. For the most part, these magic-users they capture are dangerous or psychotic; protecting us from these people is a valuable service. If... if they have taken someone out of zealousness, because she was a mage present at a major magical disturbance... I can do nothing. Hopefully, the Cowled Wizards will see their error and release your friend."

"They took her because Irenicus told them to," Ember said bitterly. "He said he'd yield if they took her, so they did."

The magistrate frowned. "I am truly sorry, but there is nothing that we can do. The Cowled Wizards are not under our command. They're not an official arm of our government and not subject to normal legal procedure."

"This is outrageous!" Minsc bellowed. "The boots of justice cannot work if they are not on the feet of righteousness!" The magistrate gave him a strange look, but said nothing.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Ember asked. "Is there no way I can speak directly to the Cowled Wizards?"

"Again, I am sorry."

"Can you at least tell me where she has been imprisoned?"

"I cannot tell you where the prison is, for I do not know. Its location is a secret, even to us, as are their methods."

"I see," Ember growled. "Thank you for your time." Without waiting for a response, she stood up and headed for the door.

-.-.-

"Now what?" Ember muttered as they walked away from the government district. Tears were running down her cheeks; she barely noticed them.

"There are other channels of information," Yoshimo said, "and I have many contacts in the city. If we were to ask the right people for aid, I am certain we could learn more about Imoen's whereabouts."

"Did you hear that, Boo?" Minsc told his hamster. "Maybe we can save little Imoen after all!"

"How soon can we meet them?" Ember asked.

"Ah, I could talk with them this very afternoon, but I am afraid I must go alone," Yoshimo said. "Some of my contacts are... shy."

Ember nodded. "As long as they can actually help, I don't care who they are."

"I am glad to hear that! Personally, I have found that a flexible attitude towards others always helps." Yoshimo grinned. "Now, you can find your way back to the Seven Vales, yes?"

"Yes. The Promenade is up that street and to the right, isn't it?"

"Very good! I must excuse myself for the present, but I will meet you there before long." Yoshimo gave a deep, theatrical bow, and vanished down a narrow alley. Ember exchanged glances with a confused-looking Minsc, shrugged, and started walking back to the inn.

True to his word, the Kara-Turan returned to the Seven Vales less than two hours later. "The wheels are in motion, my friends!" he announced. "My contact has agreed to present the matter to his... superior, and we should have a reply within a few days!"

"And if they cannot or will not help?" Ember asked.

"If that should happen, I will approach others," Yoshimo said, "but I have faith in this group."

"I suppose we'll get their answer soon enough." Wherever Imoen was, Ember had the feeling it'd be more than a day's work to get her out. She'd have to try her best to be patient; both she and Minsc needed to rebuild their strength, there were supplies to be acquired, money to be made...

She reached into a pocket and touched the three magical acorns that the captive dryads had given her. _Imoen's not the only prisoner here. And with the dryads, the path is clear enough._

"Yoshimo," she asked, "do you know how to get to the Windspear Hills?"


	5. Chapter 76: Back to Nature

**Chapter 76: Back to Nature**

The trip from Athkatla to the Windspear Hills would normally take two days on foot, but at the rate they were going, Ember expected it to take at least three. The months they had spent in captivity had taken their toll; she couldn't walk much farther or faster than she could the day she'd first set out from Candlekeep, and she had to use her staff as a walking support most of the time. By the time the trio reached a small inn, long after nightfall, Ember was exhausted; once she got settled in her small room, it did not take long for her to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

A few hours later, she was woken up by a large hand on her shoulder. "Little Ember?" Minsc's voice asked.

"Minsc?" she asked blearily, pulling her hand back in under the covers; she'd automatically reached for the dagger on the nightstand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he said, "but it is time to get up!"

Ember rubbed her eyes, blinked a few times, and looked towards the window. "It's still dark outside," she said.

"It is not that dark! The sun will come up soon, and little Ember should watch it, like she used to! Come now!" The large ranger lifted her out of bed, covers and all, and carried her out of the room. Ember tried to protest, but he ignored her, and didn't put her down until they were under a large tree that stood just outside the inn.

"See, isn't it pretty?" Minsc said, pointing to the east. "Minsc and Boo thought you'd like it."

"It is pretty," Ember conceded. A red glow was building on the horizon, lending a tint to several streamers of cloud. So much time had passed since the last time she saw a sunrise... _I'm not ready for this. It's been too long!_ She turned to Minsc to tell him she couldn't do it, but the smiling, expectant look on his face stopped her. He only wanted to help her, and she wasn't even trying. She couldn't disappoint him like this.

She turned her attention back to the sunrise.

There were little streaks of orange gold on the clouds, and the light was growing stronger. Songbirds were warbling from the bushes and trees around them; Ember listened to how their songs changed as the land brightened around them, with different tunes fading in and out of the chorus. Some she recognized from home, others were unfamiliar, but they all seemed to fit together, forming an ever changing river of sound.

For a short while, she just sat beside Minsc, listening to the sound of dawn. It was a pleasant morning; the air was warm, and it carried with it the scent of dry earth. The horizon was gradually turning into bands of gold. Around them, flowers were preparing to open.

 _I can do this._

Drawing a deep breath, Ember tentatively reached out to the life she could sense all around her.

It felt like coming home.

-.-.-

The following morning, Minsc woke Ember before dawn again, and sat with her as she meditated. She managed to wake up before dawn on her own the next day, but he still accompanied her. That morning, she finally felt ready to pray for spells again.

The forest thinned around them on the second day of their trip, and in the afternoon of the third day, they reached a rugged area with barely any trees at all. Instead, the landscape was dominated by hills, gullies, caverns, and vast stretches of gravel. Grey rocks the size of houses jutted out of the ground at irregular intervals.

"This must be the Windspear Hills," Yoshimo said, "but I must confess that it does not look like the home of a dryad queen."

Ember pulled the acorns out of her pocket. They were glowing slightly. "She has to be here somewhere," she said, showing the acorns to her companions. "There must be something we're missing."

The sound of harsh, gibbering laughter came from the north, carried towards them by the wind. It was soon accompanied by clashing metal.

"Gnolls!" Minsc growled, and sprinted in the direction of the sound.

"Our large friend doesn't like gnolls much, does he?" Yoshimo asked.

"No," Ember replied, already starting to run after Minsc. "Hurry, or we'll lose him."

They caught up with Minsc on the crest of a hill that overlooked a gully. Six men stood on the gully floor around a trampled campfire. The bodies of at least three times as many gnolls were strewn around their feet.

One of the men looked up at the small group on the hill. "I did not think we deserved an audience," he called out. "Dispatching these creatures was well and truly easy."

"We heard the gnolls," Ember called back.

One of the other men laughed. "Gnolls are nothing! They're just desperately stupid canines. No sense of self worth outside of combat."

"And how would you know," a third man sneered. "You've never engaged one in anything **but** combat."

On the hillside, Minsc gave Ember a very confused look.

The man who had laughed snorted. "You can see it in their bearing, in the way they hold their tails."

"Oh, you cannot," someone else said. "The only thing in their tails is what they sat in yesterday. Filthy things."

"I think we should leave," Ember muttered to her companions.

"You are one to talk," the sneering man said. "Smell yourself in the morning lately?"

The one who'd laughed raised his sword, which was still smeared with gnoll blood. "That's it, I'm going to kill him!"

"I think you are right," Yoshimo murmured to Ember.

"No you are not!" the first speaker shouted. "If you must have blood then take it from those whelps there. They are the kind we are hunting, after all." Six pairs of eyes turned towards the hill.

"Run!" Ember shouted, all but shoving Minsc ahead of her. She looked over her shoulder at the men, and almost lost her footing.

It was not six men that were climbing out of the gully. It was six large, shaggy beasts, covered in brown fur. They grinned ferally, displaying long, sharp teeth.

"Werewolves," Yoshimo panted.

Ember made herself run faster. _We can't die here; Imoen needs us!_ Part of her - the taint in her blood - wanted to go back and fight the creatures, but she had learned to not heed that particular inner voice, and the three of them couldn't have handled their pursuers even if they'd merely been the humans they appeared as at first. No, their only chance was to outrun the pack.

How could mere humans outrun werewolves?

At the base of the hill, Ember stopped and began to cast a spell on the bracken and small, woody shrubs that grew between the rocks. Moments before the werewolves would have reached her, the plants blossomed into a twisted mass of branches and vines, entangling the snarling creatures.

"Bought... time," she told Minsc and Yoshimo, who had also stopped. "Go!"

 _If we survive this, we're getting Minsc a bow,_ she thought as they ran up a gentle slope. Her spell would not last long; their only chance was to find a cavern or a large rock or some other easily defensible spot, but there was not as much as a tree to climb. _And they could set a tree on fire._ Then, she noticed her hand. Her fist, still clenched around the enchanted acorns, was glowing as though she held a candle flame. Were they drawing closer to the dryads? She hurriedly looked around, but saw only a few bushes, some scattered boulders, and a massive wall of smooth rock that rose ahead of them. There was nothing to indicate the presence of forest spirits, but the acorns in her hand burned brighter with every step she ran.

"They're not coming," Yoshimo gasped.

Ember glanced behind them. The werewolves had broken free from the enchanted plants, as she'd expected, but for some reason, they'd stopped following them and were standing some distance from the rock wall, howling and snarling.

"Boo thinks... they don't like the big rock," Minsc panted.

"It is forbidden to them," said a voice that sounded like rustling leaves. A dryad with dark green skin and pale, almost translucent hair stood behind them. "The queen will not allow it. You, she awaits. Follow."

"Look, Boo, we found the forest ladies!" Minsc said happily, and followed the dryad along the rock wall. Yoshimo just stared at the dryad, mouth agape.

Ember laughed with relief. _By the Lady, we're saved!_ "It's only a dryad," she told Yoshimo, nudging his shoulder.

The Kara-Turan blinked a couple times. "I... I will never have occasion to refer to one as 'only a dryad', I don't think."

Grinning broadly, Ember took Yoshimo by the arm and led him after Minsc and the dryad. They walked along the wall for a few minutes until they reached a point where the smooth rock curved slightly inward. A large patch of creeper vines grew up across the face of the rock. The dryad spoke a few syllables, and the vines parted, revealing a tunnel. The dryad gestured for them to enter.

On the other side of the tunnel lay a valley unlike anything that surrounded it. The rock wall enclosed a deep blue lake that was surrounded by a myriad of trees of every shape and size, all of them vibrant with life. Butterflies flitted through the air, alighting where they pleased on colourful flowers. The place seemed unreal, but at the same time, it felt more real than the barren wilderness that surrounded it.

"Boo wants to know if the Afterlife looks like this," Minsc whispered to Ember.

"Maybe it does," she whispered back, staring wide-eyed at the beauty around them.

A tall woman with hair like a sunrise approached them. "I have been waiting for you, little sister," she said with a gentle smile, her eyes sparkling like the sunlight on the lake. "My sisters' acorns call to me. Give me them."

Ember obediently handed her the acorns. They shone as brightly as they had when the captive dryads had created them; she was almost surprised that they didn't scorch her fingers.

The dryad cupped the acorns in her palms, and blew gently on them. "Ulene. Cania. Elyme," she whispered.

"My Queen!" a faint voice, little more than a breath of wind, cried. "Can our trees be saved? Has Irenicus doomed us?"

"Nay, my sisters, you are not doomed," the queen said. "I shall protect you forever more."

"Thank you, my Queen," came another faint whisper.

The queen turned to the dryad that had escorted Ember and her companions into the grove. "Come, Llyna! Plant our sisters' seeds, that they may again taste the wind."

Llyna's eyes lit up as she accepted the acorns. Cradling the precious seeds in her hands, she headed into the trees.

"The pretty ladies are safe now?" Minsc asked.

"Yes, little brother, they are safe," the queen said. "I thank you all for your aid; you have braved the evil that dwells in this land for our sake. We will not forget. This forest will always welcome you." She pressed her pale green lips to Minsc's forehead, then to Yoshimo's.

The dryad queen looked into Ember's eyes. "Be true to yourself, and you may claim your truth," she finally said. She kissed Ember's forehead. "Stay a while, little sister, and heal."

-.-.-

They stayed in the quiet world of the dryads for a few days before returning to Athkatla, arriving in the city a tenday after they set out. Ember had felt slightly guilty about delaying their return, but the way it had rejuvenated her was more than worth it. Minsc seemed happier as well, and had regained much of his lost strength.

"Ah, the city," Yoshimo exclaimed with relish as they passed through the bridge district.

"Glad to be back?" Ember asked with a grin. He had seemed out of sorts in the grove; she wondered if it would have helped if they'd been there during the dryads' revels.

Yoshimo smiled apologetically. "My skills are of little use in a forest."

"Boo likes the forest," Minsc said.

Ember looked around. The main bridge of Athkatla was all but a market square in its own right, crowded as it was with street vendors and their customers, sailors on leave, soldiers and scholars; she even saw and heard a grey-haired Red Wizard, arguing loudly with someone outside an inn.

"So, how do we find this contact of yours?" she asked Yoshimo.

"Coo!" someone called out from an alley. "You'd be the one I be looking for, if I not be mistaken. Ember be yer name, aye?"

The speaker was a cheery looking man, slightly shorter than Ember and dressed head to toe in faded browns. A mottled red liripipe hood hid his hair.

Yoshimo grinned. "It appears that he has found us."


	6. Chapter 77: Entertainment

**Chapter 77: Entertainment**

Ember stared glumly at the bowl of stew in front of her. It was full of hard lumps that floated in a thin broth; looking at it made her feel it was just as well that she didn't feel like eating.

Twenty thousand gold.

That was how much Gaelan Bayle, Yoshimo's contact, wanted in payment for his organization to help locate and rescue Imoen. Crossing the Cowled Wizards was not done lightly, he'd told them, and the fee was not negotiable.

"Are you sure there is nobody else we can turn to?" she asked Yoshimo, who was sitting across the table from her and thoughtfully stirring his own bowl of stew.

"Gaelan's people were the best choice," he replied. "Any other group I know of would be less able to handle such matters, and they would demand an even higher price for their services."

"I understand," Ember muttered. Unable to stand the sight of her stew any longer, she glanced around the common room of the Copper Coronet. The cheapest inn in the city was, if possible, even seedier than she'd imagined; the air was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife, and every surface was covered in grime. Most of the clientele were coarse men, as run down as the inn, who were busying themselves with getting drunk and having loud arguments with each other, but she also saw at least one group of what looked like adventurers, as well as a few men dressed in fancier stuff who were sipping wine with a disdainful air.

Then, she saw Minsc. The giant ranger had gone to ask the surly bartender for some nuts for Boo, but now he was arguing with some of the rowdier looking men. "I think Minsc is in trouble," she told Yoshimo, and started to get up from the table.

"So it seems... no, wait, I believe reinforcements have arrived," Yoshimo said. A brownhaired young man in chainmail had taken up position beside Minsc, and was gesturing at the thugs with a war hammer. They immediately backed away, and by the time Ember and Yoshimo reached Minsc, he was deep in conversation with the man in chainmail.

"Minsc is a force of righteousness, and so is Boo!" Ember heard the large ranger proclaim.

The man smiled. "Perchance I have found worthy companions, then. There is foul play afoot, and I seek to expose it. Will you join me in this task?"

"Minsc is always ready to show Evil the light of Justice! But we should ask little Ember first."

"And where might we find this Ember?"

"Right behind you," Ember said with a grin.

Startled, the man turned to face her. After a brief moment, he bowed deeply. "Greetings, fair lady! I am Anomen Delryn, warrior priest of Helm."

"I am Ember, and this is Yoshimo," she said, gesturing at the Kara-Turan. "Thank you for helping Minsc."

"Ah, 'twas nothing," the Helmite scoffed. "Those foul drunkards were easily dissuaded once they were not confronting a lone target." He paused, as if reconsidering his response. "Of course, your gratitude is most appreciated," he added with a polite bow.

Ember smiled. "Now, on to business. You spoke of foul play?"

"Indeed, I did. This inn is a cesspool of corruption, but I have reason to believe that its depravity goes beyond that which is readily apparent. Rumour has it that vile and illegal practices take place in the back rooms, for the entertainment of the weak-spirited. Observe how they guard that door." He gestured towards a side door; two heavily armoured guards were posted in front of it.

"I see," Ember said. "Maybe that's why there are so many wealthy people here, too."

"An astute observation, my lady!"

"What practices in particular have you heard of?" Yoshimo asked.

"The ugliest rumour is that they have a fighting pit in the bowels of the inn," Anomen said. "Moreover, I have overheard conversations that imply that the combatants are less than willing participants."

Ember frowned. "Slaves, you mean."

"Aye, my lady."

"A dishonourable practice," Yoshimo muttered.

"Nobody should be treated like that! We must find them and free them and let them smell the fresh air of freedom!" Minsc cried. "Even if it smells nicer in the forest than here in the city."

Ember looked at her friends, then at the young Helmite. "Where do we start?" she asked.

-.-.-

For the cost of a few pints of thin ale, a pair of drunks proclaimed Yoshimo their new best friend. They presumed anyone with Yoshimo's wealth was there for the special entertainment, and when Yoshimo knew nothing about that, they were more than happy to tell him to ask Lehtinan, the innkeeper. It didn't matter that he wasn't the nobbly type, they said, for Lehtinan would serve anyone who had coin a'plenty.

The drunks were proven right only a short while later when the small group talked to the innkeeper. Lehtinan was a large man with sallow skin and a voice that sounded like wet gravel, and he grumbled about strangers when they first approached him. However, once Ember mentioned taking their large amount of coin elsewhere, he perked up and offered to fulfil their every need, be it drink, rest, or other sorts of entertainment.

"What other sorts of entertainment?" Ember asked.

"Ohh..." Lehtinan made a sound deep in his throat, "...one is always able to provide the small pleasures of life. Things like companionship, perhaps, or gambling on battles, and other things. There is more to my little place than meets the eye."

"Of course there is," Yoshimo said pleasantly. "Isn't there always?"

A brief discussion and fifty gold pieces later, Ember held in her hand a brass token that would provide access to the back rooms for herself, Yoshimo, and their two bodyguards in the form of Minsc and Anomen. The four of them headed to the guarded door, and Ember handed the token to one of the guards.

"New patrons, eh?" the guard asked. Yoshimo nodded.

"You're welcome to enjoy the exclusive entertainments offered by the Copper Coronet," the guard said. "Feel free to look around. If you seek company, Madame Nin and the courtesans are upstairs and to the left. To the right are the challenge pits... watch and gamble, as you wish."

"Thank you," Ember said, and led the three men down the hallway to the right. She was glad it didn't take too much acting skill to pretend to be a customer; even though all she really had to do was keep a straight face and pretend to be wealthy, the whole charade was a bit unnerving. _Imoen's so much better at this stuff. If only she were here..._ Ember sighed quietly. Looking at her comrades, she was a little relieved to see the young Helmite looked at least as uncomfortable than she felt. Minsc, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease with his role; he'd become used to playing the part of a guard during their time in Baldur's Gate, and, as always, he took the disguise very seriously.

At the end of the hallway, a man dressed in dark velvet welcomed the group to the pit. He showed them to the viewing area, and asked if they wished to place a bet at this time. Yoshimo declined, saying he wished to get a feel for the place first, and the man left them.

"You're good at this!" Ember muttered to Yoshimo as they made their way to a vacant cushioned bench.

"It is merely one of my many talents," Yoshimo replied with a grin and a wink before making an exaggerated bow, gesturing at the bench. "After you, my lady."

Ember seated herself, and Yoshimo followed suit. Minsc and Anomen remained standing behind the bench, like any good guards. Several men sat on the other benches, talking loudly about the upcoming match and which fighters they hoped to see. Serving girls flitted in and out, bringing roast meat and goblets of chilled wine to the spectators; Ember noted that the food was of a much higher quality than the stuff that was served in the common room.

Looking ahead, they had a perfect view of a large, circular pit. Its walls were completely smooth and too high to climb, and its floor was covered with a generous layer of bloodstained sand. Two doors with no handles on the pit side blended almost seamlessly into the walls. _No escape once you're inside._ A chill ran down Ember's spine, making the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end.

"I hope there isn't another raid," a pale man dressed in yellow silk moaned.

"Don't worry," a purple-clad man beside him said. "The last one was barely a tenday ago, and you know Lehtinan takes care of everything!"

"'Tis true enough, but they are such a bother! Last time, my wife almost found out what I was up to!"

The man in purple nodded somberly. "Nasty business, that," he said, and beckoned to a serving girl to bring them more wine.

"He must be bribing the troops from the garrison," Anomen muttered. "'Tis despicable!"

"If I may have your attention once again, gentlefolk of Athkatla!" The man in dark velvet was now standing on a small podium to the front and left of the spectators. "Lehtinan is proud to provide for your amusement once again! Bring your attention to the pit as we see two combatants fighting for their very lives! I trust all bets have been placed!"

The crowd cheered. A hard knot formed in Ember's belly.

"Very well! BEGIN!"

One of the doors in the pit opened, and a dwarf dressed only in a loincloth and holding a wooden club was shoved through it. He stumbled and almost fell, but caught himself and stared up at the spectator stand.

"I will not fight!" the dwarf cried. "How can you suffer this to continue?! How can you -"

"You will fight because you are a slave and you have been told to fight!" the man in dark velvet interrupted. "Refuse, and be devoured for the amusement of our guests!"

"We cannot sit idly and allow this to happen!" Anomen hissed.

"Justice is cried for here!" Minsc added.

Ember nodded. "We've seen more than enough." She got to her feet and moved to the back of the room, towards the exit. Other spectators hurled indignant protests at her and her companions as they obstructed the view of the poor soul in the pit with their passing; a young, drunk couple took the opportunity to secure the now vacant bench for themselves.

As Ember reached for the door, the man in dark velvet gestured to someone on the far side of the pit. The second door opened, and a large leopard entered.

The dwarf raised his club.

The leopard lunged.

Loud cheers went up from most of the spectators as the leopard dragged its prey out through the second door.

Ember stared at the fresh bloodstains in the pit with a mixture of revulsion and fascination. "Let's go," she growled.

Minsc shoved open the double doors of the viewing area and lead the small group out of the room. There was a fairly nondescript door near where they'd entered the back rooms; they headed straight for it. Behind it lay a corridor with a few side rooms; a dizzying stench came from behind the beaded curtain that hung across a doorway. "Lotus chamber," Yoshimo said as they passed it.

A solid wooden door blocked the end of the corridor. Anomen pulled it open, revealing a large room that smelled a bit like a stable, only worse. Several dark cells with thick metal bars lined the far wall.

A guard ran up to them. "What are you doing down here?!" he bellowed, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "This is a restricted area!"

Glancing over the guard's shoulder, Ember saw a shaggy face with sunken eyes behind the bars of one of the cells. A smaller and far younger face peered out from another cell. _By the gods, there are children here too!_

"Leave immediately or face the consequences!" the guard said menacingly.

With one swift movement, Ember raised her staff and smashed it into the guard's face.


	7. Chapter 78: Emancipation

**Chapter 78: Emancipation**

Within minutes, the men who'd been guarding the cells all lay on the ground, dead or unconscious. A bear and a leopard lay near the entrance to the pit, alongside their keeper; Minsc had apologized to the animals as he had killed them, but had struck down their master with unusual relish, even for him.

"I can pick the locks, but it will take a while," Yoshimo told the slaves. "Do any of these men hold a key to your cells?"

"That one, friend," said a deep voice. A strong arm reached out from between the iron bars of the closest cell and pointed at one of the guards that lay near Ember. She searched the body and found a large, slightly rusted key in a beltpouch.

"That's it!" one of the captives cried. Ember tossed the key to Yoshimo, who caught it with one hand and immediately set about unlocking the cells.

"Hurry!" Anomen urged, peering down the corridor they'd arrived through from behind the half-closed door. "The other guards have noticed that something is amiss."

"Let us handle the guards," the deep-voiced man said, stepping out of his newly opened cell and picking up an abandoned sword. He was fairly short, but muscular, and his bare torso was covered with scars. "I am Hendak, a warrior from the north until my capture by slavers, and I will lead my brothers against them!"

The other gladiators cheered and followed his example, stripping the fallen guards of weapons and pieces of armour. A veritable wall of armed and enraged men awaited the other guards by the time they set foot in the room; they never stood a chance.

"We are free, my brothers!" Hendak cried. "Go, now, and free the women! Hendak will strike his blade into the heart of our so-called owner, so that he shall never trouble you again!"

As the other freed slaves stormed out of the room, Hendak turned to Ember and her companions. "I thank you truly, my friends, for what you have done, but I must ask one more thing of you. The slavers that sold us to Lehtinan have many children, yet, that they retain as slaves in their compound. I would ask you to free those children while we do what must be done in this place."

"More children?! Boo is outraged by the evil that leaps about this city like a hot-footed weasel!" Minsc bellowed. "We must free the little ones!"

"We'll do whatever we can," Ember said.

"Ah, I knew you would not let me down!" Hendak exclaimed. "The slavers reside in a nearby building. There is a secret passage that leads from their base through the sewers and straight to this room, but I do not know how to open it."

"Allow me," Yoshimo said. He walked up to one of the walls and pressed his palm against a slightly chipped brick in it. There was a soft click, and a section of the wall, wide enough for two to walk abreast, fell open like any hinged door.

Hendak laughed. "You start well! Good fortune to you, friends, and may the gods aid your task," he said. "I must go now. Lehtinan will feel the cold swiftness of my blade!" The former slave hurried down the corridor that led back towards the inn, sword in hand and ready for blood.

-.-.-

The course of the hidden path was found easily enough; numerous feet had worn a distinct trail through the debris that littered the sewers. At one point, Ember and her companions passed a grisly marker; a skeleton in rags, its hands still bound by rusty shackles, sat propped up against a wall.

The stench was unbelievable.

The path did not follow the main sewer canals, but it was more than close enough to them, and the nearby corridors were patrolled by sewer creatures. A small band of kobolds ran away as the group approached, but there were many slimes, too, and they had no such impulses; the small group was forced to stop and destroy every single slime and jelly that sensed their passing.

At one point, near a massive sewage drain, the group was attacked by a filthy, tentacle-limbed creature, identical to the one Ember and Minsc had seen in their prison. It seemed to charge them with the same ferocious mindlessness as the jellies, but after Minsc hacked off one of its tentacles, it flinched away and withdrew into a side tunnel, dragging its severed tentacle behind it.

"What was that creature?" Ember asked, staring at the tunnel where it'd vanished.

"Otyugh," Anomen replied. "They are vile creatures that feed upon what they find in the sewers, be it alive or dead. It will no doubt devour its own limb." A look of disgust crossed his face as he wiped ichor from his war hammer. "Such vermin is unworthy of our time."

"Yes, the children await!" Minsc added. "Onwards, Boo!"

After several sharp turns, the path crossed a wooden walkway. Unlike the random boards one usually found flung across sewage channels, this one seemed to be designed to fit the gap it bridged, and it didn't rock or budge as the small party crossed it. The path continued onwards into a chamber with a flat floor and several partitioning walls made from rough planks. At the far end of the chamber there was a smooth brick wall with a large wooden door set in it. Muffled voices could be heard beyond it.

"The end of the road, it would appear," Yoshimo murmured. He quietly approached the door and nudged it open, then peered through the narrow gap for a moment before beckoning the others to come closer.

Ember looked through the door jamb. The room on the other side was large and poorly lit, and at least half a dozen men were in it. Some of them were moving crates, while others were relaxing. One of them wore the dark purple robes of a Cyricist priest.

The door flew open. A large, burly man stepped through the opening and grabbed Ember by the front of her tunic. "Who in the Nine Hells are you?!" he shouted; tiny drops of spittle hit her face. "If you want more slaves, you're going about it the wrong way, girlie!"

Ember raised her leg and kicked. With an ear-piercing shriek, the slaver let go of her.

"On them, lads!" someone shouted.

Minsc and Anomen drew their weapons and moved towards the doorway; Minsc tried to continue onward into the slaver room, shouting about the evil that had dared to lay hand on his witch, but Anomen held him back. "Nay, friend. We must defend the doorway," the Helmite said, and swung his war hammer at one of the closest men.

Ember noticed the Cyricist casting a spell and began to cast one of her own, an incantation with short, sharp words and gestures that she'd learned while visiting the dryad queen. The Cyricist finished animating a pair of skeletons; she spoke the last syllable of her spell and pointed at him. A swarm of wasps, gnats, bees and other insects materialized in the air around him. Half of them immediately attacked their target, while the rest of the insects spread out, attacking the other slavers. The Cyricist shrieked and turned to run, but tripped on his own robes.

"Even the creepy-crawlies won't stand for your evil ways!" Minsc cried, and gleefully cut down one of the distracted slavers. The Helmite turned and gave Ember an impressed glance before stepping out of the doorway and raising a hand in front of the animated skeletons. White light seemed to pool in his raised hand, and the skeletons exploded in clouds of bone dust.

By the time the swarm dissipated, only three slavers were still standing; one was fighting with Anomen, while the other two were trying to fend off Minsc. Gripping her staff firmly with both hands, Ember ran up behind one of Minsc's foes and struck the back of his head. The slaver collapsed, much like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and was followed moments later by his partner.

"How dare you! Why are you out to ruin me?" the one remaining slaver - Ember recognized him as the one she'd kicked - shouted at Anomen. The cleric had disarmed the slaver and forced him to his knees.

"Quiet, you fiend! You have brought ruin upon yourself," Anomen replied. "You are to be handed over to the authorities."

The slaver laughed. "I'm not going to rot in prison over some worthless dregs, and you won't be the one to take me in if I do!" He pulled a dagger from somewhere within his sleeve, plunged it into Anomen's arm, and ran towards the exit to the sewer tunnel. As the slaver reached the doorway, there was a brief glint of light upon metal; he fell dead to the floor, skewered by Yoshimo's katana.

"Where next?" Ember asked, looking around. The room had only two other exits; there was a winding staircase in the corner, and a sturdy oak door, barred with iron, was set in the far wall.

"Boo says that this is just the kind of door that would hide little children from the sunshine!" Minsc announced, and pulled the door open.

A chorus of terrified whimpers came from the other side.

"I think Boo might be right," Ember murmured to Minsc. She grabbed a torch from the wall and carefully entered the dark room. The torchlight fell upon over a dozen small children; the oldest looked to be about ten years old. Boys and girls, all with matted hair, grimy faces, and eyes wide with terror. All dressed in rags. All shackled by their necks to a length of chain that spanned the entire wall.

"You're new," one of the youngest children said. "Who are you? Are you here to hurt me, too?"

A large, hard lump formed in Ember's throat, and her fingers tightened around the torch handle. The slavers were lucky to be dead already. "No, we're not going to hurt you," she said as gently as she could. "We're here to set you free."

-.-.-

A joyous mood reigned in the Copper Coronet that evening. The foul Lehtinan was dead, along with most of his lackeys, and the gladiator Hendak had claimed the inn as his own. The transfer of ownership had gone very smoothly; few of the remaining staff members had any objections to the change, especially since the new owner offered to actually pay them their full wages, and many of the former slaves, both gladiators and courtesans, were hired to fill the numerous vacant positions in the inn.

The formerly enslaved children had been attended to; bathed, fed, and clothed in new tunics, they slept three to a bed in the quarters formerly utilized by the companions while the adults celebrated. The swill Lehtinan had served his common guests had been replaced with choice cuts of meat, and the watered down ale had likewise been replaced by quality beverages.

Anomen sipped his cider and glanced across the table at Ember and Minsc, who were deep in conversation. The young lady had recounted the tale of her being in Athkatla to Hendak as they ate, and the former gladiator had immediately offered to equip them from Lehtinan's considerable armoury. Anomen himself had been granted a lightly enchanted war hammer of far better construction than his old one, while Ember had been presented with a fine set of leather armour and an enchanted staff. Minsc had been awarded an enchanted greatsword and a fairly well-fitting suit of chainmail, and Yoshimo, who was currently talking with two of the former courtesans, had received a Tuigan bow.

Fate had brought him some strange companions indeed, Anomen mused as he gazed upon Boo the hamster - a hamster! - who was sitting on the table and eating grain kernels. The reports about the disturbance in the Promenade a scant tenday ago had only spoken of one spellcaster; the girl Imoen had not been mentioned. And yet, here they were: a young lady, her addled yet loyal guardian, and their Kara-Turan companion, all intent upon retrieving this Imoen from the Cowled Wizards. Their story was far from implausible; as corrupt as the Cowled ones were, Anomen could easily imagine them imprisoning a girl when they merely should have issued a warning, if it suited their purposes. _The Order would never had stood for such an atrocity, had it been made public knowledge!_

Imoen's incarceration was clearly unjust, and her rescue would be a worthy cause, but... Anomen hesitated. No matter how flawed their conduct was, the Cowled Wizards did act on authority given them by the Council of Six, and it was clear to him that Imoen's rescue would not be effected through any official channel. Could he condone such an action against the Cowled ones? _They consider themselves bound by no laws but their own,_ he reminded himself. _And if they do not uphold even those laws, should not their behaviour be corrected, by whatever means necessary?_

"My lady," he said, addressing Ember, "would you accept another companion on your quest?"

She gave him a contemplative look. "You understand that I'll do whatever it takes to get Imoen back, right?"

 _With my assistance, she may yet be retrieved as legally as possible._ "Aye, my lady," Anomen said. "It is also my understanding that your friend's imprisonment is most unjust, and against even the regulations of the Cowled Wizards themselves. Extracting her from such a situation cannot be considered anything but a honourable task!"

She smiled, then. "In that case, I'd be happy to have you with us."

"Did you hear that, Boo?" Minsc exclaimed. "Our friend Anomen is going to continue heroing with us!"

Anomen bowed his head towards Ember, a smile blossoming on his face. The companions might be strange, but he knew in his heart that this task would be grand indeed.

Moira would be proud of him.


	8. Chapter 79: Fragments

**Chapter 79: Fragments**

Ember was in Candlekeep, standing in front of the library door, but it was not the Candlekeep she remembered.

This Candlekeep was barren. No trees hugged the walls. Not a single blade of grass grew on the grounds around the library. The water in the pools had been replaced with gaping holes into the void that echoed the black, empty sky above.

"Do you remember these doors?" a familiar voice asked; Imoen was standing beside her, still dressed in the rags she'd worn in the dungeon, her eyes fixed on the library door. "I remember, I think... Yes, this was home for so long, but it is too late to go back. They wouldn't have you now. They wouldn't have me. Had no use..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. "Someone else does. He wants something. I don't know why. Those in the cowls don't even know. Why don't I know?"

Ember opened her mouth, but when she tried to speak, no words came out. Imoen didn't seem to notice, and wandered off towards a barren patch that used to be covered by sweetmint and ivy. A robed figure - was it a statue? - stood there, staring straight ahead with lifeless, unmoving eyes. Ember's heart wrenched as she recognized her foster father's face.

"Do you remember Gorion? Or the others?" Imoen asked. "I think I do. They were the guidance, and there was much more to learn, but it is too late now. They are so far away..." She seemed to sigh. "Memories should stay, but he digs deeper... pushes everything aside..."

The statue of Gorion shattered, leaving only small piles of rubble behind. Ember screamed, soundlessly.

Imoen walked onwards, perfectly calm and quiet. Ember followed her to another statue that stood where Ember's favourite tree should have been. The statue was of a tall, hulking man, dressed in spiked armour and holding a massive sword.

"Do you remember Sarevok?" Imoen asked. "Or any others? They sought your death, and mine. They seemed so important at the time, but I don't remember them at all. Something else is more dangerous... Closer..."

The statue of Sarevok exploded, scattering tiny fragments around Ember and Imoen.

Imoen turned to look at Ember. "Do you remember ...me? I can almost see... I want to, but I..." She lowered her head. "Too late. You will come too late..."

Still looking down, Imoen turned into a stone statue.

"She resists," a cold, calculating voice said behind Ember. "She clings to her old life as though it actually matters. She will learn."

Ember turned to face Irenicus.

"This is a portrait of what has happened, and what may happen. Do you cling to the past, or can you see through the pain?" Irenicus asked. "You feel the potential within, don't you? Will you cringe from what you know you want? What you can take as your own?"

 _It's not him. This is a dream, and the taint is wearing his face. It has to be._ Glaring at the masked face of her tormentor, Ember willed her tongue to speak. "You have no idea what I want!"

"That matters not. **You** know what you want. It is you, after all, which has brought us to the dream," Irenicus stated. "Nothing is real. Yet." He raised a hand and pointed at Imoen.

The last thing Ember saw before the void swallowed her whole was the statue of Imoen, rapidly eroding away in a cloud of glittering dust.

-.-.-

 _ **Imoen!**_

Sitting bolt upright in her bed, Ember clutched her chest and breathed in deep sobs. _Just a dream. Just like before._ Telling herself that didn't help; she hadn't really expected it to. She blinked a few times, wiped wetness from her face with the back of her hands, and tried to calm herself by entering a light meditative state. Meditating in a city was far from ideal, but there were enough weeds, birds, insects and rodents around to let her connect lightly with nature even here; it was not long before she felt grounded again.

She did not, however, feel able to fall asleep again. The dream, and Imoen's insistence that she'd come too late, had instilled in her a sense of urgency that she really didn't need in the dark hours before dawn, but expelling that feeling was far more easily said than done. She peered out the window; the sky was still black, with the faintest hint of brightening over the rooftops to the east. Morning was still far away.

 _Might as well do something useful._ With a weary sigh, she pulled on her clothes and tied her hair back with a leather thong, then headed down to the common room of the Copper Coronet. Hendak's men had retrieved a chest full of documents from the slaver building before sealing off the secret tunnel last night, but nobody had cared to look through its contents yet. The chest stood where the former gladiators had left it, just outside the entrance to the makeshift armoury. Ember opened it, pulled out a large sheaf of documents, brought them to closest table, and sat down to read.

By the time Minsc came bounding down the stairs looking for her, Ember had leafed through several stacks of papers. She'd discovered that the criminals of Amn were far less careless with their letters than those of Baldur's Gate; aside from the notes sent by Lehtinan, who had signed everything with his full name, and several mentions of captain Haegan, the now dead taskmaster, there were no names written anywhere. Their main suppliers were never named, and the middle man who arranged the group's purchases would only sign with an ornately written capital 'R'. Times and dates were mentioned, but meeting places were never described as anything but 'you know where', and, occasionally, 'the compound'. The documents spelled out, clear as day, what the slavers had done, but there was nothing that intimated where or who their accomplices were.

"Little Ember's room was empty," Minsc said as he approached. "Boo was worried!"

Ember pushed the papers aside and managed a small smile. "I had a... I dreamed about Imoen and couldn't sleep afterwards. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Minsc doesn't like bad dreams," the large ranger said somberly. "They take you places where no amount of buttkicking will help, and they make you forget all about the friends and hamsters that are there for you when you wake up."

Ember looked at him. "That's... a very good way to put it."

"Don't be sad. Boo says we'll get little Imoen back soon, and then we will all be heroes together, you and Boo and I and Imoen, and our new friends, too!"

 _Our new friends..._ "I hope you're right," she said, and glanced towards the stairwell. Were the two men who were still up there truly her friends? Anomen was a squire in the Order of the Radiant Heart, just like Ajantis had been. She remembered perfectly well how strongly Ajantis had felt about her murderous tendencies back when he still travelled with them, and could only imagine how any member of his order might feel about travelling with the offspring of an evil god. As for Yoshimo, he had told them stories about working as a bounty hunter. There were no bounties on her head now that she was aware of, but might he one day turn against her for money?

It didn't matter what they might think of her, she decided. Both men had pledged to help find Imoen, both men seemed to take their honour very seriously, and she and Minsc did need their help. _Still, it'll probably be easiest for all of us if the matter doesn't come up._

"Minsc," she said, "I need you to do something for me. Don't let Yoshimo and Anomen know what I am."

"But don't our new friends already know little Ember is a druid?" Minsc asked. "Boo is confused."

"Well, yes, but they don't know that I am one of Bhaal's children, and it's probably best if they don't."

"Ah, Minsc understands now, I think! Boo won't tell them, either."

Ember smiled at him. "Thank you," she said, and put away the slaver's documents. The sun would rise soon, and it was time for her and Minsc to go greet it.

-.-.-

When the small group entered the bridge district around noontime, they were stopped by a lieutenant Aegisfield from the city guard. A brutal murderer was on the loose, he warned them; there had been a string of vicious killings lately, and a new victim had been found that very morning. Someone was killing paupers, often in the alleys where they slept, and he did so as painfully as possible. "He flays them... alive," the lieutenant said.

"Minsc is outraged!" Minsc cried. "Tell me where this evil villain is so I can let him feel my blade of Justice!"

"No, stranger! I won't have you go looking for trouble," Aegisfield said. "I have more than enough on my hands with trying to keep the streetwalkers and beggars safe!"

"You needn't worry on our part, lieutenant," Yoshimo said.

"We would gladly aid you in any way possible, though," Ember added.

"Hrm..." The lieutenant gave her a thoughtful look. "There is Old Rampah, I suppose. He may have seen something, but he won't speak to anyone from the guard. If you are that eager to be of assistance, seek him out and see if he will tell you anything. It is not too hard to find him; he is old, gaunt, and is usually dancing around a pile of rags."

"Dancing?" Anomen asked incredulously.

"Yes, dancing." Lieutenant Aegisfield sighed. "If you learn anything, be sure to let me know. Farewell!"

The bridge district was far from the largest area of the city, but it had several narrow streets and hidden corners, and after searching for an hour, the small group had seen no trace of Old Rampah.

"Did he not say that this dancing beggar would be easily located?" Anomen asked irritably.

"Maybe he doesn't feel like dancing today," Ember said, peering down a narrow alley. Nobody was there.

"Coo! It's good to be seeing ye once again, me lady!" Gaelan Bayle stepped out from behind a crate at the far end of the alley.

Ember sighed. "We don't have the money yet, Bayle," she said.

"Oh, I imagine ye don't, me lady, but the fee ain't what brung me here. There is someone that wants to hire ye for a task, if ye be willing."

"What kind of task?" Ember asked.

"Interested, eh? Come to me house at sundown, an' he'll tell ye all about it. Oh, and ye be looking for Old Rampah? Ye can find him near the Farrahd estate." He bowed, waved, and vanished into the shadows at the end of the alley.

"My lady, is that the man who demands twenty thousand for your friend's rescue?" Anomen asked. "He strikes me as a scoundrel."

"Yes, that's him," Ember said, "and I can't say I disagree, but he's all we have."

"Scoundrel or not, he may have led us to Rampah, no?" Yoshimo said. "Why don't we go find out."

"Very well," Anomen said, sounding slightly exasperated. "I know well where the Farrahd estate lies. Follow me."

The Farrahd estate was a large building made of yellow sandstone trimmed with white marble that looked like it belonged in Calimport rather than Athkatla. Several beggars and street vendors stood at the base of its massive walls. One of them, an old man with a flowing white beard, was waving his hands around as he tottered back and forth over a rag pile. Ember moved slowly towards the man.

"Rampah?" she asked gently.

The beggar froze. "Who's dat? Who's pokin' old Rampah? What sa want?"

"We just wanted to ask you -"

"I ain't done it!" Rampah shrieked. "Wasn't me! I swears. You ain't takin' me in to no guardhouse! Walls are bad!"

"We're not from the guards," Ember said.

"Not from the guards? Then I talk to you. What you want?"

"What do you know of the murders here?" Yoshimo asked.

"Nothin. Not a thing."

"Nothing?"

"Don't know nothing. Guards kept us away. They know all I know. That's it," Rampah said. "But... hehehh... but I got something they don't. They be blind, but I saw it, and now it's mine!"

"What did you find, Rampah?" Ember asked.

"Not telling. You want? You gotta buy. I found it, right near a body. It's mine, so you gotta pay. You pay... fifteen gold!"

 _At least it's not twenty thousand._ Ember handed him the money. "Now, what is it that you found?"

The beggar grabbed a scrap of thick, grey hide from his rag pile and thrust it into Ember's hands. "IT'S NOT HUMAN FLESH!" he shrieked. "Don't you think it is, because it's NOT! Them bodies be flayed, but this ain't theirs!"

Ember backed away, clutching the piece of hide. "Thanks, Rampah. We'll be going now."

"Rampah dance!" the beggar muttered, and started twirling around. "Dance, Rampah, dance! Dance in the flesh! Huuuuluckaluckakucka LAYYY!"

The small group left the beggar as quickly as they could.


	9. Chapter 80: Loose Ends

**Chapter 80: Loose Ends**

It didn't take long for Ember and her companions to find Lieutenant Aegisfield again; he was still in the market square of the bridge district, talking to a woman who was leaning casually against the wall of an inn.

"Ah, it is you," he said as they approached. "I don't suppose you've learned anything from Rampah, have you?"

"Boo thinks Rampah is a very strange man!" Minsc exclaimed.

Ember held out the scrap of hide to the lieutenant. "He let us buy this from him. He found it near the murder scene."

"Strange..." Aegisfield twirled the piece of hide between his fingers. "I have never seen anything like this hide before. Rose," he said, gesturing at the woman, "was close enough to smell the killer. We have just ascertained that he smelled very strongly of oak bark, the main ingredient of tannin. And now you bring me this odd piece of tanned hide. Few people would have any use for such things... I will have to go to the tanner's, I believe, and make some inquiries."

"Should we come with you?" Ember asked. "If he's the killer, it might be dangerous to confront him alone."

Aegisfield muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'adventurers'. "I've always known Rejiek Hidesman to be a reasonable man, if a bit gruff," he said. "However, I suppose there is a chance... very well, you may accompany me, but you must follow my instructions at all times."

"A wise decision," Yoshimo said.

-.-.-

The tanner's workshop was located on a small pier at the southern end of the bridge, some distance from other houses. The reek of tanning chemicals that surrounded the building made it painfully obvious why nothing had been built near it; Ember covered her mouth and nose with her hand as they approached the building, and Minsc complained that the smell was too much for Boo's little nose.

Lieutenant Aegisfield, on the other hand, showed no signs of discomfort as he walked up to the workshop. He gestured at Ember and her companions to make them stay back at the house corner, and knocked on the door with his fist. Soon, the door opened just enough for a short man with a mop of brown hair to stick his head out.

"I'm closed at the moment. Come back when I've replenished my stock," the man mumbled, and started to retreat back into the house.

"One moment, Hidesman," Aegisfield said. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"If it's about those murders again, I've already told you I know nothing. Why don't you go pester someone else?"

Aegisfield held out the piece of hide. "Do you know what this is?"

"Leather."

"Don't trifle with me, Rejiek. Even I can tell it is no usual hide. What is it?"

"Give it here," the tanner huffed, and snatched the scrap from the lieutenant's hand. "Elephant."

"The hide was found near the scene of the latest murder, and there was a scent of tannin there as well," Aegisfield said. "Have you made anything from such a hide lately?"

"You can't interrupt me like this," the tanner muttered. "My work must go on. My craft is all important. Nothing left to work on. No, only the ultimate materials."

"What are you talking about?"

"You will not stop what is unstoppable!" Quick as lightning, the tanner lunged forward and stabbed Aegisfield in the chest. The lieutenant slumped to the ground, and the tanner started to drag him inside the house.

"Halt, you fiend!" Anomen bellowed.

The tanner gave a start and let go of Aegisfield. "You don't understand! You couldn't! My work must go on!" he shouted as he scurried into the house. Ember and her companions hurried towards the lieutenant, who lay unconscious on the ground.

"Poison," Anomen announced, gesturing at the green-tinged dagger blade that was still stuck in Aegisfield's chest.

"I'll handle it," Ember said. "Go get that bastard." Minsc and Yoshimo went inside immediately, and the cleric hesitated only for a moment before following them.

As gently as possible, Ember wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the poisoned dagger and pulled it out of Aegisfield's chest. It came loose easily enough, but was followed by a small gush of blackened blood. Quickly, Ember placed a palm over the wound and forced her Bhaalspawn gift first to heal it, then to clear the poison. The double effort left her a little lightheaded, but she was rewarded with a few groans from the injured man. She said a healing spell over him as he regained consciousness.

"What..?" Aegisfield asked, then coughed a few times.

Ember pointedly held up the poisoned dagger. "I've cured and healed you, and my friends went inside after him. Can you stand?"

The lieutenant drew a deep breath and slowly got to his feet. "It appears so," he said, and coughed again. "Yes, I'll be fine. Let us go."

The lieutenant was not quite as well as he claimed; Ember had to support him with one arm as they entered the tanner's workshop. The room was empty; there was nothing unusual about it, other than a lack of the hides one would expect to find in such a place. A hinged trapdoor was open in a corner, revealing where the tanner and his pursuers had gone. Ember and Aegisfield climbed down through it into a room where several hides were stretched out over wooden frameworks and along the walls. Daylight seeped in through an open door.

Minsc, Yoshimo and Anomen were standing on a narrow pier on the other side of the doorway. A dead man and the remains of two ghouls lay at their feet. The tanner was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Rejiek?" Aegisfield asked.

"Gone," Yoshimo said, pointing under the bridge. "He and an accomplice escaped in a small boat while we were distracted by their friends here."

"Ran away, like cowards!" Minsc roared. "Tremble, evil, for Minsc will find you again!"

The lieutenant cursed. "Can you describe the accomplice?"

"He was a wizard," Anomen said. "He attempted to cast horror upon us before they fled, but fortunately I was prepared to counter the spell's effects."

"He was a tall, slender man in his forties, with sallow skin, greying hair, and no beard," Yoshimo added.

"A description which could fit any number of wizards," Aegisfield said wearily. "All I can do now is make sure that he and the tanner will be apprehended the moment they return to the city."

They returned to the room with all the hides and searched it. A few letters talking about meetings lay in a cabinet, and a massive cuirass of thick, grey hide with a jagged tear on its lower edge had been stuffed under a bench. Aegisfield held the leather scrap over the torn spot; it was a perfect match.

"An excellent find!" Aegisfield said. "I will present this armour and the letters as evidence. With luck, the writings will give us an idea about where they might have gone."

"I... I've found something else," Ember said quietly.

Several hides of pale, thin leather hung on racks in one corner of the room, beside a workbench where the tanner had been assembling a tunic. It was a perfect piece of work, and almost completed; the stitches were so fine that they were almost invisible.

"My lady, is that..?" Anomen asked.

Ember nodded. The gleeful roaring in her blood at the sight of the tanner's masterpiece left no room for doubt. "It's made from human skin."

-.-.-

"Those evil men must be stopped, or all who have skins will sleep in fear!" Minsc complained as the small group headed to Gaelan Bayle's house that evening.

"'Tis in the hands of the city Guard now," Anomen said. "Aegisfield seems competent enough; I have no doubt that he will bring justice to their black souls."

"It's a pity we couldn't have finished it here, though," Ember said, absentmindedly jiggling her coin purse. It was heavier than it had been for a very long time; the lieutenant had rewarded them with gems worth a few hundred gold. It had been a set sum, meant as a reward for assistance in identifying the murderer, not for catching him, but she still felt like they'd been paid in full for a job half done. _We didn't catch him, and we don't know why he did those things. We don't know why he made that horrible tunic._ It could be that the tanner had merely gone mad, but what role did his accomplice play?

"Be careful with that," Yoshimo cautioned her. "You wouldn't want to draw attention to our newfound wealth, hmm?"

"Oh, sorry." She hung the purse back on her belt and covered it with the hem of her tunic.

Yoshimo grinned. "Do not be worried. You have Yoshimo to watch your back!"

When they reached Bayle's house, they saw a young boy, no more than ten, sitting on the steps that led up to the front door. He stood up as they approached. "Hoy! You'd be the one I's watchin' for, aye? Uncle Gaelan told me to let you in."

"Your Uncle Gaelan is not here, then?" Ember asked.

The child laughed. "Oh, yer a funny one! I like you. I'm Brus," he said, and held out a hand.

Ember took the child's hand and shook it as seriously as she would an Archduke's. "I'm Ember. Pleased to meet you, Brus."

"Renal's waiting for ye inside," Brus said. "Jus' follow me!" He flung the front door open and led them inside to the parlour where Bayle had offered them assistance for twenty thousand. A different man awaited them in the room; he looked as stern as Bayle looked jolly, and wore only black, from his boots to his leather armour to his cloak. The only colour on the man was the blood-red lining of his hood, which was down around his shoulders. His eyes followed Ember as she entered the room, making her feel a bit ill at ease. She glared at him, and his face wrinkled into a small smile.

"You'll have to excuse me if I stare, as you're not quite what I was expecting," the man said. "From all I have been told, I was expecting someone... grander."

"Is that so?" Ember asked coldly.

"Oh yes, I've been told many tales of your exploits, both here and further north. But before we continue, let me introduce myself," the man said. "My name is Renal, as I'm sure you've been told. I am also known as Renal Bloodscalp... a little nickname I've earned over time. Rather grisly, but it keeps the fearful in line."

"Your name is known to me, Bloodscalp!" Anomen cried. "My lady, this man is a renowned Shadow Thief!"

"That I may be, young Delryn," Bloodscalp said, looking straight at Anomen, "but at this moment, it should be of no concern to you. Ah, relax, squire! I am not about to ask your lady here to commit any crimes."

"What is it you want from me?" Ember asked.

"Right to the point, eh? Refreshing. I am sick of underlings who shift from foot to foot; a bit of directness is a nice change," Bloodscalp said. "To be short, there is a particular task that I need performed, and you are just the one to do it."

Ember raised an eyebrow.

"My problem is this: one of my guildhouses to the south is run by a rather ambitious fellow named Mae'Var. Good thief, but I never liked him. Now I know why. I've had some hints that he is getting too big for himself. Thinking of taking my place, I suspect, but I've had no real evidence to say that this is so." Bloodscalp paused to sip from a goblet. "Now, you're likely thinking: why not just eliminate him? Yes, yes, I suppose I could. But without proof of betrayal, this would anger the other guildmasters and then I'd have a war on my hands and, well, just let it lie that I don't want that."

"And what would all this have to do with me?" Ember asked.

"It's all very simple," Bloodscalp said. "Mae'Var got a new right hand man a few months ago. He's a wizard, and a bloody good one from what I hear, but I also hear that he likes his luxuries. It shouldn't be too hard to convince him to betray Mae'Var, for the right sum. I would like you to approach this wizard and find out what his price would be. Don't worry, there'll be money in it for you too."

"Boo wonders why you don't ask the wizard yourself?" Minsc asked.

"Deniability," Yoshimo said. "Am I correct?"

"Yes and no, my freelancing friend," Bloodscalp replied. "I could have asked any mercenary group to do this, but you have an advantage they do not have."

"What advantage might that be?" Anomen asked.

The Shadow Thief looked at Ember. "The wizard's name is Edwin Odesseiron."


	10. Chapter 81: Off to See the Wizard

**Chapter 81: Off to See the Wizard**

The task was straightforward enough: convince Edwin Odesseiron to reveal Mae'Var's plans to Renal Bloodscalp, and receive a thousand gold pieces' worth of gems.

It would not be as simple as it sounded. Ember wasn't worried that Edwin would refuse out of a sense of loyalty to Mae'Var - the Thayvian despised thieves, and his main loyalty would always be to himself - but his sense of pride could easily get in the way. If he still resented Imoen for jilting him, he might well refuse to do anything that could conceivably help her or her friends. As for the bond between them that Bloodscalp thought would help matters... as far as Ember was concerned, it wasn't there. She wouldn't have minded if she'd never met the wizard again, and he'd never connected with any of them except Imoen; with that in mind, she wouldn't be surprised if he considered doing a favour to the 'barbaric simians' he used to travel with as beneath him, no matter the payment. Still, the chance that he might agree was there, and the reward would put them another step closer to gathering Imoen's rescue fee, so Ember ignored her own distaste for working with thieves and accepted the task.

Her companions' feelings on the matter were decidedly mixed. Yoshimo thought it was an excellent idea, Minsc was happy about the money but didn't like having to work with the evil wizard who'd upset his witch and then left them, and Anomen was strongly opposed to dealing with Red Wizards, working with thieves, and receiving money from thieves.

"'Tis blood money," the squire argued as they walked back to the Copper Coronet. "It matters not that the task they ask of us is not inherently illegal, for our payment was gathered through theft, blackmail, and who knows what other foul actions!"

"Well, since the money is for Imoen's rescue, you can think of it as the fee being lowered by a thousand, if that helps," Ember said angrily. "After all, unless Bayle is linked to more than one group, my guess is that we'll be paying the Shadow Thieves to help find her. I don't like it very much either, but I told you I'd do whatever it takes to get her back, and if you don't want to come talk with our old travel companion, then we can go without you!"

Anomen glowered at her. "That will not be necessary. I shall come with you," he said. "But I do hope this unsavoury task will not set the standard for your quest!"

-.-.-

Mae'Var's guildhouse was located near the docks, in an area with few street lanterns and even fewer guard patrols. It was not a place one wanted to spend much time in after nightfall.

"Stay close together," Yoshimo advised the others as the small group entered the district, "and don't look at anyone."

After passing a noisy tavern - several sailors were staggering around outside its front door, singing off key and waving clenched fists at each other while they mumbled slurred threats - they turned down a narrow alley, which ended near the top of a flight of wide stone steps. They continued down the steps and turned into a short dead end, half filled with crates. There was a boarded up door set in one of the walls. Ember knocked on it.

The door was pushed open, making several creaks as the planks pulled away from the wall. A stunning woman with black, ringleted hair and large hoops of gold in her ears stood in the doorway, greeting them with a sultry smile.

"Why, hello there," the woman purred. "Mmm, if it isn't a new face. How very thrilling."

"Anishai," Yoshimo said, and bowed slightly.

"Yoshimo!" the woman exclaimed. "Darling, it has been far too long! Tell me, what brings you here?"

"Unfortunately, it is work that brings me to your doorstep tonight."

Anishai sighed theatrically. "How dreadfully boring... I suppose you have a password for me, then?"

"Carmine," Ember said.

"Carmine?" The woman's eyes lit up. "Oh, how delightful! I was wondering how long it'd take Renal to find someone for this. Follow me, my dears."

The Shadow Thief led them inside and up a staircase, then stopped in front of a door made from carved and polished oak. "The wizard is in there," she said, "but be warned: he doesn't like unexpected visitors, so step carefully, hmm? I'll leave you now. Yoshimo, we simply must sit down and chat when this matter is over and done with."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Yoshimo said with a broad grin. Anishai blew him a kiss and went back downstairs.

"She seemed friendly," Ember remarked.

"Yes, she is very friendly," Yoshimo said, then whispered in Ember's ear, "she is also one of the finest assassins in the city."

"I see," Ember grinned, and opened the door.

There was a loud crash. Papers and scrolls flew up from a desk in the corner, scattering everywhere. A chair fell over behind the desk, where a red-robed wizard had leapt to his feet. There was a look of terror on his face, and a ball of fire rested in the palm of his raised right hand, ready to be hurled at the intruders.

"Hello, Edwin," Ember said.

"You... **you**!" Edwin bellowed. "Does the fine art of knocking completely elude your diminutive minds?!" He closed his fist around the spell, dissipating it, and glared scrutinizingly at the small group that stood in his doorway. His face contorted into a scowl.

"New companions, I see," he said acridly. "(Of course she would keep the imbecile around.)"

"Some, yes," she replied.

"You discard people on a whim when they are no longer wanted, yet always manage to find new fools to take their place. Must be very convenient to be able to do that."

"As I recall it, **you** left **us** ," Ember said coldly.

"I did no such thing. I merely went somewhere else to think, but I suppose that is a concept far beyond your meager comprehension," Edwin snarled. "So, where did you abandon Imoen?"

"What?!"

"(I thought I was clear enough, unless she has lost her hearing in addition to her common sense.) Imoen is not with you. I know perfectly well that the foolish girl would not have left you willingly (although I cannot fathom why). One does not need my impeccable mental capacities to guess that you abandoned her somewhere, just as you did me. So, did you leave her along the roadside, or did you at least have the good grace to -"

The Thayvian got no further; Minsc rushed forward, grabbed the front of the wizard's robes, and lifted him with one hand. "The mean little wizard should not talk about Minsc's witches like that!"

Edwin made some half-strangled noises and clawed wildly at the giant's massive arm.

"Heartwarming reunion, is it not?" Ember heard Yoshimo say to Anomen behind her.

The whole matter could hardly have gone worse. "Minsc, put him down," she said wearily. Minsc begrudgingly let go of the wizard. "Edwin, we didn't leave you; we were abducted and held captive. We managed to escape a couple tendays ago, but Imoen was taken by the Cowled Wizards. She's in Spellhold."

"Spellhold? SPELLHOLD?! How in all the hells did you manage to... (no, that's not important now!) Why are you cavorting around the city instead of extracting her from that blight upon civilization?"

 _So, he still cares for her wellbeing. At least that's something._ "Actually, that's why we're here," she said.

"Elaborate."

As briefly as possible, Ember told the Thayvian about Imoen's capture, the rescue fee, and Bloodscalp's offer. "So, if you'll tell Bloodscalp about Mae'Var's plans," she concluded, "I get a thousand towards the fee, and you'll get..." Bloodscalp had told her to haggle, but knowing Edwin, she decided to just tell him the limit of what she'd been given to bargain with, "five thousand, and a position at their headquarters."

"I see." Edwin glanced at the door, sighed, and straightened his robes. "A total of six thousand? Very low, for information of the quality that I can provide."

"He said he'd go no higher."

"(It will have to do, even though it is almost an insult.)" He headed towards one of the bookshelves and pulled out a thick tome. It was full of loose pages. "These are several of the letters that have been exchanged between Mae'Var and the Night Knives lately. He has been courting those cutthroats in order to bolster his own position, and their plans include assassinating your friend Renal Bloodscalp. Mae'Var is fully aware of the penalty if the Shadow Thieves learn of these plans; it would be disastrous, both for his ambitions and his continued breathing. He believes these documents to destroyed, but I, of course, anticipated their further usefulness. Now, leave me be while I pack - and keep your your clumsy, elephantine feet off my documents! (The amount of research I'll have to leave behind... horrible, just horrible. Bags of Holding should be far more commonly available!)"

"My lady," Anomen asked, "is that wizard insinuating -"

"I insinuate nothing; I insist!" Edwin snapped, busily gathering up the documents that had spilled from his table. "How are you simians going to rescue her without my formidable talents? (Spellhold, of all places...)"

"And how, pray tell, would you rescue her? By getting yourself sent to Spellhold, perchance?"

"(Fools. I am surrounded by fools,)" Edwin muttered, and held up a piece of parchment in front of Anomen's face. "In case you belong to the unwashed masses that cannot read (which would not surprise me at all), this is a license to practice magic within the city."

"I can read perfectly well, wizard," Anomen retorted, his face reddening.

"Enough!" Ember went between the two men. "Edwin, I'll accept your offer for Imoen's sake, but if you cause trouble with any of our other companions, I won't hesitate to kick you out. And believe me, you'll know it if that happens."

"We'll see about that." Edwin thrust the stack of Mae'Var's letters into her hands, and set about preparing a pack for travelling.

-.-.-

Edwin's room at the Copper Coronet was inferior in every way to the almost adequate chamber that he had lived in at Mae'Var's guildhouse. A rickety desk, no leather armchair, only one shelf; it didn't even have a carpet on the floor.

He hoped he would not have to spend much time in it. Or in the city, for that matter.

They had met with Renal Bloodscalp and received the combined sum of six thousand in gems in return for the evidence Edwin had gathered against Mae'Var. His former employer was unlikely to survive the night, Edwin mused as he sorted the contents of his pack. He wondered what Anishai, that crude woman, would do with the material he had left behind in her new guildhouse (most likely, she'd use it as kindling to heat her bath).

Bloodscalp had been seemed puzzled when Edwin turned down the position that was offered him, and as he once again looked at the bare walls of his new lodgings, Edwin felt a pang of regret about that decision. Still, the Shadow Thieves would not have been able to harbour him forever, he reminded himself, and as tedious as adventuring was, it would offer him a chance to get away from this backwards, narrow-minded excuse for a city. And...

Imoen's fate was not in the least on his mind when someone knocked on the door. "What is it now?!" he yelled.

The door opened, and Ember entered the room. "See? I do know how to knock," she said.

"Yes, yes," Edwin said irritably. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was a smart mouth. "What do you want?"

I just wanted a private word with you," she said. "The thing is, Imoen told me what happened."

"So?" Edwin said, feeling heat rising in his cheeks despite his orders to himself to act icily. He should have known the damn girl wouldn't keep her mouth shut about how she humiliated him.

"I appreciate your help with this, I really do," Ember said, "but I want to make one thing perfectly clear: You were the one who wanted to come along. If we get her back -"

"When."

"When we get her back... She owes you nothing, Edwin. That's all." The girl left, closing the door behind her.

Edwin glared at the door, a sharp retort dying, unspoken, on his lips.

How dare she?!

How dare that mongrel talk to him like that? She could not possibly understand his motivations; her simian brain capacity was far too feeble to encompass such matters! And besides, the foolish brat they were rescuing lost her chance to see the splendour of Thay a long time ago. He felt nothing for her now. No, nothing but pity at her folly. (Although she couldn't really have known about the Cowled vermin, could she?)

He sighed. Either way, there was no chance of him taking Imoen to Thay.

Ever.


	11. Chapter 82: Adventurers for Hire

**Chapter 82: Adventurers for Hire**

The Copper Coronet was part of a dense cluster of buildings that had, over time, become one solid mass where the houses all shared walls with their neighbours. With no space left on the ground, the house owners had started to build platforms on the rooftops; they had grown together just like the structures below them, giving the entire block a second level that was sturdy enough to support even a few extra houses. Birds and rats thrived under the shelter of the platforms, cats fed on the smaller animals, and droppings, leaves, and other forms of debris that accumulated in cracks provided enough soil for wildflowers and even the occasional tree to grow there, far above ground.

The platforms were not a safe place to be at night, when thugs and thieves used them as a convenient meeting place, but by dawn, the area was empty. While the life that blossomed in the nooks and crannies of the rooftops was hardly more than one could find in any alley, the platforms offered an escape from the early morning bustle of the streets below. The stillness was one of the things Ember sought when she and Minsc climbed the rickety ladders that led to the rooftops the morning after their reunion with Edwin, but there was also another reason for her to choose that spot for meditation: in all of Athkatla's poorer districts, the platforms were the best place to go to watch the sun rise.

It was a beautiful morning. Puffy white clouds were building in the distance, promising a rainy afternoon, but for now the air was mild, even pleasant; on the platforms, the smells of the city were less pervasive than they were at street level. Reluctant to leave after her meditations, Ember and Minsc decided to stay a little while longer, and sat down to talk about forests and hamsters and other mornings they'd seen as the sun climbed above the walls of the city.

When they finally left the platforms - Boo was getting hungry, Minsc claimed - and returned to the inn for breakfast, they found Anomen sitting at a corner table, polishing his shield with a large, soft cloth. _Just like Ajantis used to do,_ Ember mused. The young cleric looked as if he'd been up for hours; he was already wearing his chainmail, his hair and beard had been groomed, and he looked fully awake and alert. _Are they trained to do this when they become squires, or are habits like this a prerequisite for joining the Order?_

"Look, our new friend Anomen is awake, too! Minsc will bring breakfast for him as well," Minsc announced, and headed towards the kitchens.

Ember went to the table where Anomen sat. "Good morning," she said. "Do you mind if I join you?"

The Helmite stood up and bowed slightly. "Good morning, my lady! By all means, have a seat." He gestured at the chair beside his.

"Minsc went to get some breakfast. He's bringing some for you, too," Ember said as she sat down.

"That is most kind of him," the cleric replied, and continued polishing his shield. It looked old and showed signs of having been repaired several times, but there were no traces of rust, and the metal gleamed in the faint light that drifted in through the inn's small windows. The shield's only adornment was a simple emblem on its center field: two golden rings, looped through each other, on a field of dark blue.

"My lady, is the wizard truly as skilled as he claims to be?" Anomen asked.

"Edwin? Yes, he actually is," Ember replied, "as long as you don't need a divination spell, that is. He's very intelligent... sometimes, I wonder if he might not have been a nicer person if he hadn't been so aware of his intelligence."

"Aye, perhaps. I find him to be exceedingly abrasive and arrogant."

"As I understand it, he's like every other Red Wizard in that respect."

"Minsc refers to him as an evil wizard."

"Their homelands are enemies, and Edwin was a direct rival of Minsc's first witch," Ember said. "As for him being evil... compared to Minsc, maybe he is. Compared to people like Lehtinan or Rejiek Hidesman, he is not. I wouldn't have let him come with us if I didn't think he cared about Imoen. And I really believe he'll be helpful. He's saved our lives in the past with his magic."

"It troubles me that someone who professes to detest thieves - as you claim he does - could so easily enter into employment with them. Why would any man embrace the ways of his foe so willingly?"

"Out of necessity, perhaps?"

Anomen scoffed. "Necessity, or convenience? Even before I was accepted as a squire of the Order, I strove to uphold its ideals. Such moral hypocrisy... I find it repugnant."

"I understand," Ember said. She watched him as he continued to polish the shield, running the cloth over every surface with smooth, practiced movements. "The Order is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Aye, my lady." The cleric smiled. "I can still remember the first time I saw an array of the Order's knights, when I was but a child clinging to my mother's arms. The sunlight glinted off their immaculate suits of armour, and their bright banners moved gaily in the breeze, but what truly struck me was the look of honest pride in the eyes of each knight. From that moment on, my greatest wish was to become a paladin... to ride forth to glory under the Order's pennant." He fell silent, then looked down at his shield and closely scrutinized its top edge.

 _But he didn't become a paladin. He became a cleric._ Ember was tempted to ask why he'd chosen a different path, but something in his change of manner warned her not to delve. Instead, she said, "I haven't told you this, but we travelled for a while last year with another squire of the Order."

Anomen looked up at her. "Indeed? What was his name?"

"Ajantis Ilvastarr, from Waterdeep. We hunted bandits with him along the Sword Coast road. He felt exactly the same about Edwin as you do, by the way."

"Ah, I see! He is now Sir Ajantis; he passed his Test and was knighted late last summer."

Ember smiled. "I am glad to hear that."

"Little Ajantis is a sir? Oh, joyous day!" Minsc exclaimed. Ember turned to see the large ranger behind her, his arms laden with fresh bread, butter, and boiled eggs. "It is a joyous days for other heroes, too. Look what the nice lady cook found for us!" he said happily as he put the food on the table.

"Thank you, good Minsc," Anomen said, and helped him arrange the plates so that all three of them could easily reach everything. "My lady, it occurs to me that we know far less of each other than we should. You do not know of my journeys ere we met, and I am not familiar with your deeds on the Sword Coast. If you would share a tale or two with me, it would be greatly appreciated."

"Well..." Ember chewed her lip thoughtfully. There were several stories she could tell him, but which ones would be wise to share with a squire? _Definitely not the bandit camp. Not Candlekeep. Not our hunt for Sarevok. Nothing pertaining to the bounty; it raises too many questions. And not about how we found Edwin; it'd only upset Minsc._ "Have you ever heard of a sculptor named Prism?" she finally asked.

"But of course! His renown was well-earned; two of the sculptures at the Orders' headquarters were done by him. As I understand it, he died under tragic circumstances last summer."

Ember nodded. "We were with him when he died," she said, and began the story about the artist who worked himself to death for the sake of a woman he had seen only once.

-.-.-

Finding employment was not as easy as Ember had hoped it would be. The town criers of Athkatla were found on almost every street corner, making announcements about gossip, scandals and wars in a distinctive sensationalist manner, but after two days of listening to them, she had not learned of a single matter that might have offered any income.

"Why are we just waiting around in this insipid city when there is work to be done? (We are wasting valuable time!)" Edwin complained as he, Minsc and Ember ate supper in the Copper Coronet. Yoshimo and Anomen were still somewhere in the city, searching for suitable tasks through their acquaintances.

"Don't complain, Edwin," Ember said. "After all, you could help us look for work instead of sitting in your room with your documents all day."

"(Nobody understands!)" Edwin huffed. "May I remind you that my research may well lead to a magical breakthrough of unimaginable importance?"

Ember rolled her eyes at the wizard, and returned her attention to her bowl of soup. According to him, he'd managed to find several leads on the whereabouts of the Nether Scrolls during his time in Athkatla, and he was utterly convinced that finding them would make him the most powerful mage in history. The night before, Ember had asked him why he was planning on keeping them for himself rather than giving them to his government as he'd planned to all autumn; he had fumed and spluttered and told her to mind her own business, only to tell her a couple hours later that it should be obvious that the great power in the scrolls would help them rescue Imoen and therefore was far more valuable in his hands than anywhere else. Ember avoided discussing the scrolls with him after that; to her, the only thing obvious about them was that he'd always intended to get them for himself.

"Don't be sad, little wizard! Boo understands! He wants to leave town, too," Minsc said, then said to Ember, "The noisy little towncriers make his poor hamster head hurt with their big words."

"(That rodent understands less than its owner, if that is even possible,)" Edwin mumbled between gritted teeth.

"We could go to a different town and look for work, perhaps," Ember said. "Crimnor is nearby, and we could easily go even as far as Amnwater or Trademeet."

"How about Imnesvale?" Yoshimo called out from the entrance. Anomen came in behind him, followed by a tall, dark-skinned man with black hair, which he wore in several small braids that hugged his scalp. A cloak lined in purple covered his suit of very fine leather armour, and a curved blade hung from his belt.

"My lady, may I introduce Lord Valygar Corthala," Anomen said, reaching one hand towards the stranger and the other towards Ember. "My lord, these are our companions: Ember of Candlekeep, Edwin Odesseiron, and Minsc."

"And Boo!"

Ember stood up. "Pleased to meet you," she said, and bowed slightly.

"Corthala, you said?" Edwin asked, suddenly curious. "The Corthala who was involved with that planar-travelling sphere a few months ago?"

Lord Corthala sighed heavily. "Yes, I am that Corthala."

"What did you do with the sphere?"

"I sent it away, to where no mage on Toril can reach it."

"Of course you did," Edwin muttered, rolling his eyes. "(Why can nobody appreciate such works of art? Barbarians, all of them!)"

Anomen coughed pointedly. "Lord Corthala is in need of adventurers to accompany him to Imnesvale," he said.

"What has happened there?" Ember asked.

"I do not know," Lord Corthala said. "I have spent much time in the village in the past, and have many connections there. A few days ago, I received a missive from the village. People have been disappearing. Some have been found, insane or dead, but others have vanished without a trace. One of the missing people is the ranger I hired to watch over the village and the surrounding woodlands. Now, they seek my aid. I seek the strength of numbers. Delryn has vouched for your abilities, and has explained your situation. You will be paid handsomely for your assistance. Will you come?"

"We must go save the village! I will crush all of the evil!" Minsc announced. "Even the small, rodent-sized evil... but that is more Boo's job," he added thoughtfully.

"How handsomely?" Edwin asked.

"You will be paid according to the task, mage. At the very least, five hundred gold."

"That is more than fair," Ember said. "We'll come with you, and hopefully, we'll be able to help."

"Very good. Be ready to leave in the morning. I will meet you here an hour past dawn."

The lord bowed to Ember and left the inn.


	12. Chapter 83: The Road to Imnesvale

**Chapter 83: The Road to Imnesvale**

Lord Valygar Corthala was a gruff, quiet man, with a strong distrust of magic and mages that he made no attempt to hide, but he was not an unfriendly man. From the moment Ember and her companions set out from Athkatla with him, he insisted they call him Valygar rather than Lord Corthala, and as they travelled through the light woodlands that lay between them and Imnesvale, he behaved more like their peer than their employer; he hunted small game with Minsc, discussed the terrain around them with Ember, and sparred with Yoshimo. And in the evening of their second day on the road, as the group relaxed around the campfire after a supper of rabbit stew, he told them about the planar sphere.

"My ancestor, the necromancer Lavok, committed many foul deeds, and my mother's family swore to put an end to him. They pursued him for many years. Eventually, he built a sphere that would let him reach other planes. He disappeared in it, over five centuries ago," Valygar said. "In the years that followed, my mother's line continued to produce wizards, but not one of them learned from Lavok's folly. They all came to bitter ends; they killed each other in their pursuits, or had to be... dealt with. I am the last of Lavok's line."

"And then the sphere returned," Yoshimo said.

"Aye." Valygar sighed. "It appeared in the slums of Athkatla around Midwinter. I was wintering in my cabin in the Umar Hills, and only learned of its return when a group of Cowled Wizards came for me. Naturally, they knew of Lavok, and they believed my blood would allow them to gain access to the sphere. They tried to force my co-operation. I... defended myself."

"Cowled Wizards again?" Minsc exclaimed. "They are everywhere, winding sticky ropes of evil around the feet of all good heroes! Just thinking of them has Boo outraged!" He glanced at his shoulder, where the hamster in question was calmly nibbling a seed, and added, "It is a good thing that Boo does not think about the Cowled Wizards while he is busy eating."

Valygar stared at Minsc with a bemused look on his face. "What happened next?" Ember asked him.

"What happened? Ah, yes. I could not knowingly allow a fiend such as Lavok to return to Amn."

"But surely Lavok would be dead, after so many years?" Anomen asked.

"He had extended his life before through foul magic, and time may flow differently on the planes," Valygar said. "I could not ignore the possibility that he might still exist. I gathered a group of trusted companions, and sought out the sphere. As the Cowled Wizards had guessed, my relationship to Lavok allowed us to enter. However, it soon sealed itself again, and took us away to another plane."

"We were trapped," he continued. "There was nothing to do but investigate the sphere. We worked our way through its many traps, and found a group of knights from another plane. Much like us, they had become trapped inside the sphere when it came to their world. They aided us as we fought our way onwards... there were many foul creatures from many worlds, including our own. Two Cowled Wizards had followed me within. They ambushed us, but we were stronger than them."

"Or merely less foolish than them," Edwin said. "(Knowing the Cowled Wizards, that would be no large task.)"

"We found Lavok in the very heart of his sphere. The alien knights fought with us against him. One of my comrades fell to his accursed spells, and two of the alien knights were destroyed, but in the end, we vanquished Lavok. My family's oath was fulfilled."

"But you were still trapped," Yoshimo said. "How did you manage to return?"

"The controls were not hard to understand. Returning to Faerun was a simple matter. My companions and I left the sphere to the alien knights, so that they might find their way home again."

"So you just gave away the sphere," Edwin grumbled.

"There was nothing within that I wanted."

"Five hundred years of accumulated knowledge. The secrets of planar travel, of longevity, just tossed aside."

"Some things are not worth learning. I would not expect **you** to understand, wizard," Valygar said, glaring at Edwin.

The wizard leaned forward, as if readying a sharp retort, then sat back down again with an exaggerated, disgusted sigh. "(My time is too valuable for this,)" he grumbled, and pointedly reached for his bundle of research documents. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.

"Young Anomen!" Yoshimo said. "Samurai of the west, roaming in service of god and lord. Tell us something of your adventures."

The cleric's eyes lit up. "And what shall I tell you of?"

"A tale of a foul beast slain, perhaps?" Yoshimo suggested.

"Very well. I shall tell you about the Order's campaign against the Hillgnasher giants... now, that brought the blood up!"

The unease left by Edwin's and Valygar's exchange soon dissipated as the young Helmite embarked upon his tale from the previous summer, when he and his Order had ventured into the southern hills of Amn to slay giants in glorious combat.

-.-.-

The village of Imnesvale lay at the foot of the Umar Hills, some three days' travel east of Athkatla. The area was named after Umar, a cruel witch who once terrorized the region; as Valygar told the others, it was rumoured that she returned once every hundred years to snatch new victims from the villages. It was just the kind of landscape one would imagine to be haunted by an evil witch, with windswept hills and moors that were dotted with large boulders, clusters of trees, and the occasional sheer cliff face. It reminded Ember a little of the Windspear Hills, some distance north and east; she wouldn't be surprised if the two hilly regions were both part of the same large expanse of rough terrain.

Imnesvale lay where the hills to the east met a dense, dark forest to the northwest, and was surrounded by several small farms. The village itself straddled a winding stream that came down from the moors. There were no distinct streets, and even though there was a single bridge, made from thick planks, there were at least two well-used wading sites as well. Most of the buildings were thatched with thick layers of straw, and their white-caulked walls seemed to glow in the strong afternoon sunlight. It would have fit anyone's imagination of a perfectly idyllic village if not for the flocks of sheep that milled around in makeshift pens beside several of the small houses, bleating plaintively as they trampled the grass beneath them into a muddy mess.

"(Yet another barbaric village, inhabited by sheep,)" Edwin muttered, looking simultaneously bewildered, disgusted, and amused.

"Strange," Valygar said. "Ho there, Dale! Margaret!" he called out to a man and a woman, both tall and with weathered faces, who were guiding four dappled cows through the village.

"Lord Valygar!" the woman exclaimed.

"Oh, it is good to see ye again," the man said. There was an air of nervous relief about him.

"What goes on here, Dale?" Valygar asked.

"Well, ye can see for yerself," Dale said, gesturing with one hand towards the sheep pens. "Me an' Margie had to come into the village... just ain't safe anymore out there! I knows two other herders who vanished, an' the farmers ain't safe, neither. Farmer Jacob an' his wife were both slaughtered... and then their bodies disappeared! Merella's gone missin', too. She set off with some adventurers, and they ain't ever come back! Turrible things, all."

"Aye. I heard about Merella." Valygar turned towards Ember, and said quietly, "Merella is the missing ranger I told you about."

"It's the wolves, you see," Margie said. "Merella told us they were acting strangely this spring, and now they've started in on us people... mauling and stealing corpses. It has... it has been just ghastly."

"That's just foolish talk!" her husband protested. "Wolves would go after th' cows, right? An' we've had no more killin' of the cows than we've had before. It's 'em ogres, sure enough. Never should have trusted 'em, I say!"

"Nonsense! How could an ogre sneak into the village and steal a body? No, no. I am certain they still protect us."

"Ogres that protect?" Minsc asked. "But ogres are evil! How can this be?"

"They are deserters from the Sythilisian armies," Valygar explained. "They came here a year ago, asking for peace. Now they guard the village border to the east. In return, they are allowed to stay near the village, and may come here to trade a few goods every now and then. Their leader Madulf is wise, for an ogre. I have spoken with him."

"Everyone is so upset and frightened," Margie said. "People start thinking things are happening that aren't! Some blame poor Madulf and his band," she looked pointedly at her husband, "some think that Umar has returned... and our very own daughter spun a tale about shadows in the woods!" The woman said the last part with a light air, as if to show how dismissive she was of the very notion, but the spark of fear in her eyes told otherwise. Ember felt a pang of sympathy for the woman; she knew all too well what it was like to be hounded by an unknown enemy. _It's no wonder at all that they're clinging to whatever rational explanations they can come up with._

They thanked Dale and Margie and offered some words of reassurance before taking their leave of the couple. Valygar then led the group onwards, towards a large, cozy-looking house on the very outskirts of the village. Brambling vines covered most of the walls, and a mass of flowers had been planted around it, especially along a gravel walkway that led to the front door. As they started up the walkway, a rotund, middle aged man with a balding pate came out the front door and all but ran to meet them.

"Lord Valygar, thank goodness that you have come! You have no idea of the dire straits my little village is in!" the man exclaimed, wringing his hands.

"Greetings, Minister Lloyd," Valygar said, and shook his hand. "Tell me what has happened."

The minister immediately began to tell a story that did not differ much from the one the group had just heard from Dale and Margie. He knew more of the leads Merella and the pack of adventurers that vanished with her had been following, and he was adamant that Madulf's ogres were innocent - humans were not the only beings that had been lost - but other than that, he had little to tell them that wasn't merely rumours or speculation.

While Minister Lloyd spoke, a woman in a brown dress emerged from the house and came down the path towards them. She was slightly less heavy-set than him, and her only adornment was her silvery hair, which she wore in an elaborate bun. He introduced her as his wife, Eina.

"It's a gruesome business, isn't it?" Eina said. "People being murdered in their very own beds... their bodies disappearing... not to mention what happened to poor old Hudson! It's horrible, just horrible!"

"What exactly did happen to him?" Yoshimo asked.

"We found the poor soul only yesterday morning," the minister said. "Someone... someone'd cut his skin off, neat as you please, and then put it back on him, inside out!"

"Inside out?" Ember repeated, aghast. She didn't know of any murderers that would tear people apart and steal their bodies later, but she did know of one that might do such things to his victims. "Has anyone else been found like that?"

"No, my lady," Minister Lloyd said. "The others... none of them were cut by a blade. Them that were found were all torn to pieces."

"Just the kind of thing you'd expect from wolf attacks," Eina remarked.

 _Could Rejiek Hidesman have fled here?_ The tanner would have been in Athkatla when the troubles started, but he would have had ample opportunity to reach Imnesvale by the time old Hudson was killed. "Out of curiosity," Ember asked, "have any tanners arrived in town lately?"

"Actually, a tanner did pass through only a few days ago," Eina said. "You can't miss that smell!"

"Oh yes, I remember the fellow," the minister said. "Had a mage friend, didn't he? They left two days ago."

 _Just before old Hudson was found._ So far, it all fit. "What did the tanner and his friend look like?"

"Let me see... the tanner was rather short, brown hair... nothing to look at, really," Eina said. "And his friend was quite tall and lanky. They were both so unfriendly, I wasn't at all sorry to see them leave!" She eyed Ember warily. "Do you know them? Do you think they might be... involved?"

"I believe my lady suspects the tanner might be a murderer who recently fled from Athkatla, accompanied by a mage," Anomen said grimly. "He would skin his victims."

"Oh dear!" The minister's wife covered her mouth with a hand.

"Minsc remembers the evil skinner! His time will come, for Minsc will bring him it to him on a silver platter of righteousness!" Behind the giant ranger, Edwin groaned with exasperation.

"Do... do you think he might have killed old Hudson?" Minister Lloyd asked.

"It's possible, if that was them," Ember said. "The descriptions fit them both. Where did they go?"

"South, I think," Eina said. "Towards Trademeet, perhaps? But I don't know for certain. I'm sorry."

"Do not worry! Minsc and Boo and friends will find them, and give them a swift kick in the evil! We will -"

"No, we will not," Edwin said. "We were not hired to follow some random murderer across the country. (Especially with no tangible proof.)"

"Edwin's right," Ember told the fuming Minsc. "We should investigate the cause of all the other killings before we do anything else."

Minsc slowly nodded. "Minsc does not like agreeing with the wizard, but it is as little Ember says. We must go where evil is in most need of a beating."

"I thank you both for sharing this information with us," Anomen told the mayor and his wife. "Minister, if you would be so gracious as to send a missive to Trademeet about this matter, I would be most grateful."

"Yes, yes, of course! I'll do so immediately!"

"My companions and I will do our best to expose the fiend behind the other murders," Valygar said. "We will follow Merella's trail tomorrow."


	13. Chapter 84: Into Darkness

**Chapter 84: Into Darkness**

The trail of Merella and her adventurer companions led straight into the forest to the north of Imnesvale. It was a very old forest, dominated by massive oak and beech trees that had spent centuries stretching skywards; time had woven their branches into a dense canopy that didn't allow much light to pass through. There was little undergrowth and few young trees except in the occasional spot where an older tree had died or been uprooted, tearing a hole in the dark green forest roof with its absence.

The gloominess of the forest intensified the deeper Ember and her friends went into it, aided by a low fog that crept in between the trees, chilling the air and blocking out even more of the light. Wreaths of mist draped themselves around the branches, and water droplets gathered on armour, clothing, and exposed skin. Ember wiped moisture from her cheek with her hand, and stared at her wet palm. It was just water, completely harmless, but there was something deeply unnerving about this midday fog, especially since it'd been a perfectly fine, sunny morning when they left Imnesvale.

"This fog... is not normal," Valygar said.

"No, it's not," Ember muttered. The entire forest seemed empty, somehow, as if there was nothing in it but the trees, the fog, and themselves. It made her skin crawl.

"Such a darkened glade could hide horrors of all manner," Anomen said, eyeing the trees suspiciously. "We must watch our backs!"

"Boo heartily agrees! There could be spiders, or ankhegs, or even basilisks! Anything could be lurking around the next corner!" Minsc sounded almost cheerful at the prospect of running into something.

"The woods **have** no corners," Edwin snapped. "(I am surrounded by imbeciles!)"

"Edwin, you have a manner that makes each of us feel beautiful and appreciated," Yoshimo said lightly, and approached Minsc. "Come, my friend, and lead the way. My skills may be of little use here, but you will spy anything that might approach us, no?"

Minsc laughed happily. "Evil cannot hide in fog forever! Not when Minsc and Boo have eyes and ears and a big sword ready for them!"

By mid-afternoon, it was almost as dark as it should be around nightfall. Even with one of Edwin's magelights, it was difficult to see anything that was much more than ten feet away; their only consolation was that the densest part of the strange fog never descended below the level of the treetops. Ember was about to suggest they start looking for a campsite when Valygar raised his hand and quietly called for a halt.

The sound of crackling leaves and snapping twigs came out of the gloom ahead of them. They hurried towards the noise, trying not to stumble over roots and fallen branches as they ran. Something moved in the darkness, shuffling along the forest floor, then stopped.

It was a giant wolf, more than twice the normal size, with a ragged coat of brown and grey fur. It had the gaunt look that so many of the wolves on the sword coast had had the previous year, but unlike those starved creatures, it did not lunge at them; instead, it stood perfectly still and regarded them warily, as if it was assessing them. It stood crouched over a human body, which it appeared to be dragging through the woods. Parts of the corpse's torso had been ripped away and more than likely eaten.

"Vile creature!" Anomen cried. With a start, the wolf came to life and ran off in a loping gait, leaving the body behind; it would have escaped easily if not for Edwin, who sent a volley of magic missiles after it. The spell struck the wolf's hind quarters, and it fell to the ground in a graceless, whimpering tangle of limbs. A ripple ran through its fur; moments later, a naked woman, emaciated and with painful-looking burns on her back and thighs, lay where the wolf had fallen.

"Man-things!" the woman snarled. "Curse you and curse the world! Let me have my last meal in peace!"

"Wolfwere," Valygar said, drawing his katana. "You and your kin have preyed upon the innocent for the last time."

The woman barked out a harsh laugh. "My kin? Hah! No longer, fool. They have fallen to the shadows. Your hunting has gone awry."

"I suppose it was the shadows, then, and not you who ate from that corpse you were dragging with you?" Edwin asked sardonically.

The mottled brown and grey hair at the back of the woman's neck bristled. "I speak the truth."

"Explain yourself," Valygar said. "What do you know of these shadows?"

"The forest was not always like this. All was well until the first day of spring, when the skies darkened at high noon. The pack gathered so that I might calm them, but I knew no more than they. Then, a man made of shadow came among us. My wolves froze in terror at the sight of him. I changed form and leapt at his darkness, but he merely laughed at my attack. He brushed me aside as easily as a leaf, and killed my wolves, my children, one by one with a single touch... and once they were all dead, his darkness reached out to the corpses of my children and animated them as shade wolves." A low, keening sound, somewhere between a sigh and a howl, escaped her throat. "Numb with terror and sorrow, I ran."

"This is not right!" Minsc cried. "Wolves are meant to be wolves, not shadows! Even Boo agrees about the rightness of that and the wrongness of this!"

"Didn't one of the villagers say that her child was talking about shadows in the woods?" Ember asked Valygar. He nodded.

"Is it these shade wolves, then, who have brought terror to the village of Imnesvale?" Anomen asked. Ember noticed that the squire was staring at a point somewhere above the naked woman's shoulder as he addressed her.

"Yes," the woman said. "As we were, we would never attack man-things except to defend. Your flesh is not to our taste."

Edwin looked pointedly at the dead body.

"That man was dead when I found him. I took his body only to gather strength to face the shadow man."

"You wish to confront him again? Dangerous business, that," Yoshimo said. "I fear you won't fare better than the first time."

"It matters not. He has taken my family and my home from me. There is nothing left for me but revenge. Will you stand in my way?"

Valygar shook his head. "No. We will come with you, and confront this shadow creature."

"Yes!" Minsc roared. "The shining blades of goodness must be raised against him!"

Ember kneeled down beside the woman and said a prayer of healing over the burns caused by Edwin's spell. Lines of pain smoothed away from the woman's face as the wounds faded away.

"I thank you," the woman said.

"Do you have a name?" Ember asked gently.

The woman looked at her with large, yellow wolf eyes. "You may call me Anath."

-.-.-

The group shared their food supplies with Anath, who eagerly devoured everything they gave her, even dried fruit. While the wolfwere ate, they dug a makeshift grave for the dead man under the roots of a toppled tree. There was a signet ring on the man's right hand; Anomen bent down and gingerly removed it just before they covered the body with a mix of fallen branches, dead leaves and dirt. "If Helm wills it, we may perchance bring news of his fall to his family," the cleric said somberly, turning the ring over in his hand.

They rested for a couple hours in Anath's cave, and set out again long before dawn; in this forest, there was no point in waiting for the sunrise. "The ruins of an ancient temple lay to the east of the den," Anath told the group. She had spent the night as a wolf, but had changed into a human again in order to talk; as a concession to her companions' modesty, she wore Ember's cloak draped around her. "It was holy ground once, but now it is fouled, and the ruins have long been a place of foreboding to my pack. We do not - did not go there." She growled quietly, as if the very thought of the place was unpleasant. "A few days before the darkness came, we heard muted rumblings that seemed to come from the ruins. It sounded like falling rocks; we paid the noise little heed. But the shadow man came from that direction, and when I have seen the... the shadows of my flock, they have also come from the same place."

"So, we will seek them there first," Yoshimo said.

"Yes." Anath handed the borrowed cloak back to Ember. "Follow me closely," she said, then reverted to her wolf form. She sniffed the air carefully, looked back at the group as if to reinforce her order to follow her, and headed eastwards into the forest.

Less than an hour passed before the group saw Anath's former wolves for the first time. As they walked along a rough path formed by the bed of a long-gone stream, a series of strange, echoing howls rang out from the woods ahead of them. Anath stopped in her tracks, and snarled at the trees. Moments later, a half dozen shadowy forms bounded towards them, all headed straight for the wolfwere.

"No!" Minsc bellowed, and ran towards the shade wolves. "You will not," he kicked one of them away from Anath, "attack," he raised his sword, "the wolf lady!" With a fierce roar, he brought his blade down on one of the shade wolves, cutting it in half. Ember used her staff to knock another shade wolf off its feet; Anath lunged at it and somehow ripped its throat out with her teeth.

Suddenly, a white light surrounded them; as one, the shade wolves turned to stare at Anomen. The Helmite had raised his hand, and seemed to be holding a sphere of pure light. The shade wolves trembled as if in pain, and hissed at him.

"In Helm's name, begone!" Anomen shouted. The light in his hand brightened, and the shade wolves melted away to nothingness.

"(Why should I have to light our way when he can do that?)" Edwin muttered, quenching an almost-cast spell by closing his fists.

"Ah, but you make it look so easy, o mighty wizard," Yoshimo said, giving Edwin his broadest grin.

Ember hurried towards Anomen, who was leaning against a tree and breathing deeply. "Not as easy... as skeletons," he told her, panting. "A stronger will... binds them to this plane. I am well, my lady; please, attend to Anath."

Valygar and Minsc were already inspecting the wolfwere. Other than a few scratches on her snout and a shallow gash on her left flank, she was unharmed, and a small healing spell was enough to set her right again.

"Minsc is very sorry about the little wolf lady's friends," Minsc told Anath. The wolfwere gave him a mournful look and howled once, then shook herself thoroughly and started down their makeshift path again.

Two hours later, after destroying two more groups of shade wolves, they finally reached the temple ruins. The ruins looked old, old beyond imagining; there was almost nothing left but a jumble of broken rocks, an uneven, lichen-encrusted marble floor with several holes in it, and a few crumbling walls and pillars. One of the largest holes seemed to be created by an entire slab falling out of position, and a lower level of the temple was visible through the gap. A faint ray of light shone upwards through one of the smallest holes.

The area immediately around the hole with the ray was the only part of the temple grounds that was not utterly swarming with shadows and shade wolves.

With an enraged snarl, Anath rushed into the temple grounds, flinging herself at one of the shade wolves. Within moments, she was buried under a writhing, growling mass of shadowy wolf bodies.

Moving as one, the rest of the shadow creatures slowly turned towards Ember and her friends.

-.-.-

The fight was not going well, Edwin thought grimly as he sent several flame bolts into the mass of shadows. The boorish Helmite's fancy pyrotechnics were not enough to deal with this many undead spirits; apparently, all he could do without completely exhausting himself was keep the raving horde from charging them all at once. Edwin was tempted to suggest that the cleric would be more useful if he'd just grab his hammer and swing at the shadows like everyone else was doing, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to see what would happen if Anomen stopped trying to repulse the undead. (After all, there were advantages to not being attacked by a dozen of those things at once.)

He flung a volley of magic missiles at one of the shades. The blazing spheres were perfectly reflected in the surface of a pillar that stood beside the faint beam of light.

Curious.

With a brief gesture, Edwin sent his magelight towards the pillar (it wasn't as if they needed it where they stood, with Anomen showing off). The pillar's surface was metallic, slightly curved and perfectly smooth.

A mirror.

Why?

He directed the magelight to the base of the mirror. There appeared to be some kind of mechanism there (yes, of course!) that allowed the mirror to be repositioned. It looked as though it might still work, even though he couldn't see any reason to -

Wait.

Edwin looked at the beam of light, then at the mirror, then at the light again.

He grabbed the shoulder of the closest person, who happened to be Yoshimo. "You!" he said. "Do you see that mirror?"

"Mirror? I... Ah, yes, I see it."

"Do you think you could get to it?"

"I am Yoshimo!" the Kara-Turan said, as if such a silly statement was an answer. "But why?"

"If my deductions are correct (and they usually are), the mirror can be moved to reflect the light. The very light, I might add, that these shadows are avoiding."

"I understand," Yoshimo said. "Cover me."

Edwin blazed a path towards the mirror with a jet of flame. The Kara-Turan sprinted up the trail and stopped just beyond the beam of light. A few shadows followed him, but they stopped in front of the beam, hissing and snarling. Edwin threw a few magic missiles at them just as Yoshimo reached out to adjust the mirror, letting it catch the faint rays that came from the ground.

Within moments, the shadows and shade wolves were incinerated by a flash of brilliant golden light.

-.-.-

The shade creatures were all destroyed. Edwin was walking around the strange mirror, which was still glowing faintly, and was muttering about how fascinating it was.

Minsc sat crouched over Anath's body, sobbing. The wolfwere was dead; the shadows of her children had torn her to pieces.

"Why did the pretty wolf lady do that?" Minsc asked plaintively. "Why? Boo does not understand!"

"I don't know," Ember said quietly. "Maybe she panicked. Maybe the sight of them all was too much for her." _Maybe she just wanted to die._

"We must avenge her! We must bring light to her little ones, and put the shadow man in front of the candle of justice!"

Ember squeezed his hand. "We will."

After wrapping Anath's remains in Ember's cloak and carrying them out of the temple grounds, the group slowly, carefully, made their way down through the largest hole and into the ruined temple itself.


	14. Chapter 85: The Temple of Amaunator

**Chapter 85: The Temple of Amaunator**

The interior of the temple was dark and musty, and showed signs of having been neglected for years, decades, maybe even centuries. The hole that Ember and her companions had used to enter the temple led to a smallish chamber that was half full of fallen rocks. There was an opening on one of the walls that looked as if it had once held a door, and beyond it lay a long, dark corridor, lined with several other doorways.

"Storage rooms, or quarters, perhaps," Yoshimo said, and carefully led the others down the corridor. The chambers they passed were mostly empty; two shadows emerged from one of the doorways near the end of the corridor, but they were quickly dealt with.

The next chamber was significantly larger, and far more populated. A dozen or so shade wolves were silently padding around between the sooted pillars that held up the ceiling, and the moment the group entered the room, several large shadow creatures and a pair of skeletons, holding massive broadswords in their bony hands, rushed in from an adjoining chamber.

"Foolish mortals!" one of the largest shadows hissed. "You shall not free the master's consort!"

The undead creatures were far stronger than the ones in the forest had been; Anomen was able to destroy the shade wolves and repel the smallest of the shadows, but the larger shadows and the skeletons only flinched slightly, then kept coming. With a loud, disgusted grumble, the Helmite hefted his war hammer and started attacking the skeletons.

Fighting that many undead was like nothing Ember had ever experienced before. The skeletons did not stop unless they they were broken to pieces, and the shadows were only dispersed by what would have been killing blows on humans; darkness could not be bruised, and the shadows' skin, if they could be said to have that, resealed around any lesser cuts within moments. The ghostly claws and fangs of the shadows were everywhere, biting and tearing and pulling, and the only sound the skeletons made was the dry creaking of bone against bone as they swung their swords. The battlefield felt a lot like a nightmare, and that feeling was only compounded when Edwin lost his magelight; after that, the room was only lit by the red glow of the wizard's fire spells and the occasional glimmer of bluish white whenever she or Anomen had to pause to heal someone.

It was a long, hard fight, but eventually, the throng of undead thinned out. Once the two skeletons were brought down, the battle became far easier, and Minsc beheaded the last of the shadows just as Edwin rekindled his magelight.

"Well done, all," Ember panted, and stopped herself from looking for something to wipe her staff clean with. _No need for that._ There wasn't the slightest trace of gore on any of their weapons, and other than two piles of crumbled bones, the skeletons' swords, and the occasional fresh bloodstain - from herself and her friends, but not a drop from their foes - the chamber they had fought in was just as pristine.

"Ho, noble friends!" someone called out from the far end of the room.

"Who goes there?" Valygar asked, and carefully moved towards the voice. A doorway in the corner had been boarded up with roughly hewn planks, and a small, gauntleted hand waved at them from a gap near the bottom.

"Your grace," the voice replied, "I am Mazzy Fentan, Truesword of Arvoreen and a valiant servant of justice and righteousness. As you can see, I could use your assistance."

"And you shall have it," Valygar said. He and Minsc immediately set to work at removing the planks, and before long, a dishevelled-looking halfling woman emerged from the cell. She was dressed in a stained suit of chainmail, and her dirt-smudged face was surrounded by a mass of short, reddish brown curls. If Ember were to guess, Mazzy was about ten years older than herself.

The group introduced themselves, and Mazzy shook each one's hand in turn with a surprisingly firm grip.

"You were with Merella's party, were you not?" Valygar asked.

"I was. She led us here to discover the source of the evil that has befallen the area." Mazzy sighed. "A source which became abundantly clear when it slaughtered my companions."

Valygar lowered his head. "Merella is dead, then."

"No. Not yet."

"What do you mean?" Ember asked.

"As I said, Merella brought us here. Local legends spoke of this old temple and of a darkness that was struck down here, ages long past. It seemed a reasonable place to begin our quest. We entered the temple ruins and found it infested with shadow-magic. This place was once one of the sun god Amaunator's temples; look at it now!" Mazzy gestured at the dark walls and dusty corners. "A Shade Lord has made the temple his abode, and twisted it to his purposes. The shadows you just fought are what is left of his victims, perverted and corrupted by his power, and they were only the lesser of his servants."

"What other servants does he have?" Ember asked.

"He commands a dragon," Mazzy said bitterly.

"A... a dragon?!" Edwin sputtered.

"Yes. A shadow dragon. It struck us down as he watched and laughed. Then... then he took the life force of my friends and turned them to members of his cursed army." The halfling's voice wavered. "Merella and I were the only ones left standing. I would gladly have sold my life with my friends, but the Shade Lord would not let his dragon kill us. His new consorts, he called us."

"Consorts?" Yoshimo asked. "What manner of undead spirit could require consorts?"

"He did not mean it in the conventional sense. He is not a creature of this plane and must possess a body, feeding on its life, in order to remain here. He inhabits Merella, now... and plans to use my own body once Merella grows weak, I suspect."

"I have... encountered such beings before," Valygar said grimly. "We must destroy this monster."

"Did you completely forget about his dragon?!" Edwin asked. "We are nowhere near being able to handle something like that! (Much as I hate to admit it.)"

"You surprise me, mage," Valygar said. "I would not have expected you to admit to a limit in your skills."

"One day, I will destroy dragons on my whim," the Thayvian snapped, "but for now... (What is the saying? Ah, yes.) Discretion is the better part of valour!"

"And what would you know of valour?" Anomen scoffed. "Your pale and thin skin is all that is important to you, and we are all more than aware of that fact."

"Do not address me in such a manner, fool! I am only concerned with our lives in the presence of an ancient force that you could NEVER understand!"

Valygar raised his hands. "Quiet. You are correct, mage. We cannot deal with a dragon. We will seek another path, if we can."

"(Hmpf!)" Edwin crossed his arms and glared triumphantly at the cleric.

"Minsc is not afraid of dragons, but Boo thinks this is a good idea, and Minsc listens to Boo," Minsc said, nodding sagely.

"The temple has many paths, and we only followed a few of them," Mazzy said. "I can guide you, and I am ready to fight with you, if you will have me," Mazzy said.

Ember smiled at the halfling. "Of course! We'd be happy to have you with us."

"Then we shall travel together as companions. With Arvoreen's blessing, our partnership shall be a fruitful one!"

-.-.-

The shadows had taken Mazzy's weapons - a short sword and a short bow, both blessed by her god Arvoreen - and placed them on a very high ledge just outside her cell. It was far too high for the halfling to reach, but for Minsc, it was no problem at all, and he retrieved the weapons while Anomen showed her the ring he'd taken from the dead man in the forest.

"I am sorry," Mazzy said, shaking her head. "I do not recognize the ring, and he was not of our group. We thought we were alone in the forest."

Once Mazzy was reequipped, they went in search of the chamber that held the light source the group had seen outside. With Yoshimo in the lead, searching diligently for tricks and traps, they moved slowly through dusty corridors and past empty rooms, abandoned several lifetimes ago. Ember was astounded by the size of the place, especially because the rooms and corridors they passed through were merely the remains of the basement level of the temple. _Its main hall must have been larger than any temple in Athkatla,_ she mused. She remembered learning about the old sun god Amaunator back in Candlekeep. He had been one of the most important gods in this region and in Netheril, but when the Netherese empire was destroyed, a lot of his followers had died. His power had waned, his remaining followers had left him, and eventually, the god himself had died, all but forgotten. She glanced at a mural of Amaunator's holy symbol, a round disk that must have once been golden, and a sadness came over her. _He used to be so important. Now, nobody remembers him, and his temple is being desecrated by darkness._

Ember turned towards Valygar. "You've encountered something like this shade lord before, you said?"

"Yes. I told you of Lavok; he owed his long life to a demon, which was bound to his blood and demanded the flesh of his relatives... much like how this shade lord requires new bodies. The lives of dozens of my relatives was stolen by that foul magical symbiote," Valygar said. "Eventually, Lavok came to regret his actions, and built the sphere to remove the demon from his family. When he set out to explore the planes, he 'accidentally' erased the settings that would return the sphere to its home. It took the demon five hundred years to locate Faerun again."

"How do you know all this?"

"When we defeated Lavok, the demon died a few moments before he himself did. With his last breath, he told me the truth." Valygar sighed. "I have destroyed the blight of my ancestor, but now I find myself facing the same problem once again. Sometimes... sometimes I believe that my life is so caught up with magic that there will never be an escape from its foul presence."

"I think I know what you mean," Ember said.

The group continued onwards, passing several more chambers, ranging in size from storage cupboards and water closets to halls large enough to comfortably house twenty men. All of them were empty, containing neither furniture nor enemies. "Too easy," Yoshimo muttered as he peered through a half collapsed doorway. "We should have seen more signs of our shadowy friends. I do not like it."

"I, for one, relish their absence," Mazzy said. "I doubt it will last long."

Beyond a certain point, the corridor took several sharp turns. It was no longer lined by other chambers, and the corridor walls were far more elaborately decorated than before. Ember felt her heart beat just a little bit faster as they followed the corridor through its twists and turns, Yoshimo scouting ahead around each bend before the rest followed. Whatever it was that lay ahead, it had to be something more important than the rooms they'd passed so far!

A clattering sound, like a collapsing pile of firewood, came from the next room, accompanied by a shout in Kara-Turan that sounded like it had to be a curse. The clattering continued even as Yoshimo rushed back to the rest of the group, his face white as a sheet. "We have company," he gasped.

Crashing and clanking, a massive figure lurched around the corner behind Yoshimo. It was a skeleton, so tall that it had to stoop to avoid hitting its massive head on the ceiling, and it looked like nothing Ember had ever seen before, with an ogre-like head, long, massive legs, a small yet sturdy ribcage and extremely long arms that ended in bony scythes rather than hands.

"A bone golem!" Valygar cried.

"Minsc needs a bigger sword," Minsc said meekly.

The golem fell upon them with ferocious strength, knocking Yoshimo off his feet with a well-placed kick, then lashing out with one of its cruel scythes at Edwin. The wizard crumpled to the ground, his belly cut open.

Ember kneeled beside Edwin as the others charged the golem. He was trying to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth except a bloody foam. She quickly used her Bhaalspawn gift to heal the worst of the cut, then chanted several healing prayers over him, gradually closing the gaping wound.

"My blade is no use against it," Yoshimo said, leaning over her shoulder. "Let me help him! Maybe the quick blow of a staff will be more useful against that bag of bones. Here, Edwin, take this healing potion."

The wizard grumbled something in Thayvian, but gladly accepted the healing potion from Yoshimo. Ember got to her feet and grabbed her staff. It was as Yoshimo'd said: Valygar and Mazzy were barely scratching the golem with their blades, and had to settle for distracting it while Minsc and Anomen tried to break it. She raised her staff and swung at one of the oddly assembled elbows. There were several cuts in the bone already - Minsc's work - and the bone creaked under the force of her blow. Mazzy moved under it, aiming cuts at its legs that would have cut tendons if it'd had it, and earned herself a kick that sent her rolling several feet down the corridor.

"For honour!" Anomen shouted, and struck at the injured elbow with his war hammer. The bone splintered, and the scythe broke off.

"Well done!" Valygar shouted, earning himself a blow from the remaining scythe that would have killed him if he hadn't been able to twist out of the way of the edge. Instead, it only gave him a deep cut in the shoulder.

A fire spell hurtled over their heads and splashed against the golem's skull without even singeing it. In the corner, Edwin cursed.

"Come to Minsc! He is not afraid of your bony evil!" Minsc shouted at the golem. The creature lunged at him, but he smoothly ducked the remaining scythe and hacked at its shoulder. Ember followed his example, striking only at the places where Minsc had done some damage to the bones. It landed a kick on her, then bore down on her with its scythe; as she rolled away, she noticed a crooked spot in the middle of its spine where two different skeletons had been fused together.

"Attack the spine!" she shouted. Minsc obeyed, earning himself several cuts and kicks, but he relentlessly hacked at the bone junction. Ember struck at the limbs, trying to distract it from the giant ranger -

With a happy roar, Minsc rammed his blade in between the bones of the spine, and jiggled it. The golem's spine ripped apart like a string of pearls, and the golem collapsed in a pile of disassembled bones.

Minsc beamed, seemingly not even noticing his injuries. "Did you see that, Boo?" he said. "Minsc didn't need a bigger sword after all!"

Then, he passed out.


	15. Chapter 86: Light in Dark Places

**Chapter 86: Light in Dark Places**

The fight with the bone golem had left Minsc in a terrible state. The golem's scythes had ripped through his chainmail in several places, and copious amounts of blood seeped through the gashes as he lay unconscious on the rough stone floor, Boo squeaking plaintively beside him. Ember picked up the frightened hamster, placed him in her lap, and set to work healing Minsc. _If only he still had his ankheg armour instead of this shoddy stuff,_ Ember thought in frustration as she inspected the damage; there were several deep gashes across his body, and broken links of chainmail were embedded in the edges of the wounds. As gently as she could, she pulled the metal free from Minsc's flesh, then said a litany of healing prayers over him. Soon, the bleeding stopped, and his face regained some colour. She said a final rejuvenating prayer, and the giant ranger woke up.

"Boo! Where is Minsc's Boo?!"

"Right here," Ember said, and handed over the hamster. With a happy cry, Minsc clasped Boo safely in his hands.

"Do not be afraid, little one!" he cooed in Boo's ear. "Minsc is well now!"

With a sigh of relief, Ember sat back and wiped a trickle of blood from a small cut on her cheek. "Is everyone else all right?" she asked, looking around at the rest of the group.

"I believe so, my lady," Anomen replied. "Some bruises and cuts remain, but all major injuries have been attended to." The cleric had finished healing Valygar's wound - the only reminder of it was a significant tear in the shoulder of his leather armour - and was tending to Mazzy's arm; evidently, it had been broken when the bone golem knocked her down.

"At least it was not my sword arm," the halfling said, carefully flexing her freshly mended limb. "Thank you, squire." The cleric mumbled something practically inaudible in response.

"Then, my friends," Yoshimo said with a broad smile, "I think it is time for us to move onwards. That golem must have been here for a reason, no?"

Whatever that reason might be, it was not readily apparent as the group entered the chamber the bone golem had emerged from. It was a smallish chamber, about three times as wide as the corridor, and there was nothing in it other than the usual drifts of ancient dust, some scattered bones, and a simple sarcophagus with its lid halfway off. The lid of the sarcophagus bore what Ember recognized as the corroded remnants of a sun symbol, and one of the walls was made of smooth, soot-stained panels, rather than of rough stone.

"How exceedingly exciting," Edwin grumbled.

The bones that lay scattered across the floor were small and delicate; the bones of a child. The skull had been cracked into three segments, and several of the larger bones looked as if something had gnawed upon them, but as far as Ember could tell, few of the bones were outright missing.

"Can you feel it?" Mazzy asked quietly.

"Feel what?" Yoshimo asked.

"The wrongness of this place. It has seeped into the very rocks themselves."

Valygar nodded, his face a stern mask. "It is... not surprising. Dark, foul magic is drawn to such pits like flies."

"I do not think it is dark magic," Mazzy said. "It is something else. Something is out of place."

"Boo knows what is out of place! Bones should be in graves, not on floors!" The giant ranger bent down, carefully picked up a shin bone, and placed it in the sarcophagus.

Anomen shrugged. "If nothing else, we may at least restore dignity to this tomb," he said, and started gathering up the frail, ancient rib bones. Edwin scoffed loudly at the foolish waste of time, but the rest of the group joined in. It was not long before they had the skeleton neatly laid out in its original resting place.

Something seemed to whisper through the chamber, and a small, shimmering figure appeared beside the sarcophagus. "My bones have been retrieved," the figure said in the voice of a young girl. "I am most grateful to you, and I pray that you are in this place to strike a blow against the darkness that has engulfed it."

"We... we are," Valygar said. "Who are you?"

"I am Amauna," the ghost said. "I was born a prophetess to our lord Amaunator. I was the Child of Light who would fight against the darkness that was beginning to spill into these lands. Long ago, I gathered the last of the faithful, and brought them here. The temple was old, even then, and a shadow had taken up abode in it. We were to destroy the Shade Lord and reclaim the temple. We... we failed in our task."

"What happened?" Ember asked.

"We drove the Shade Lord from this place, but we did not destroy him. I was killed in the battle. My people entombed me here and set up wards to keep the darkness at bay, but as our Lord's power dwindled, the wards began to weaken. The priests left, or died, and I slept here alone. Then, one year ago, the Shade Lord returned, accompanied by vampires as well as his shadow minions. Together, they destroyed the wards and claimed the temple, and the Shade Lord threw my bones to his dark wolves, that they might defile my remains."

"I have seen several of his minions, but no vampires," Mazzy said. "Where are they?"

"Once the temple had fallen to darkness, they left. They can find no sustenance in a dead place, and cannot linger long."

"There was a light outside that destroyed the shadows," Yoshimo said. "We were searching for its source when we found your remains."

For a moment, the ghost brightened. "It still exists? It is good to hear that. The source lies beyond the glass doors," she said, looking towards the panels on the wall.

"(Glass?)" Edwin ran a finger over one of the panels, rubbing off a thick layer of soot and grime. A piercing ray of light shot through the freshly exposed glass.

"The Altar of the Eternal Sun is behind those doors," Amauna said. "It was once the inner heart of the temple. Daylight reigns eternal in that room, harnessed in a sun gem. No undead creature can tolerate its presence; the Shade Lord could not access my remains until he had sent living creatures, dominated by his will, to darken the glass panels. He fears it even now, and none of his creatures, save the bone golem, would come here."

"This sun gem... it can be used as a weapon against the Shade Lord, then?" Valygar asked.

"No. The gem will fade if it is removed from the altar."

"I see," Valygar said quietly. His shoulders seemed to slump, just a little. "It matters not. I have another plan for the Shade Lord, but... his dragon stands in the way."

"I was not strong enough to defeat the Shade Lord, even when I was among the living, but I do have some power," Amauna said. "I have power enough to elude the attention of his guardians, if necessary, and I can give this to you." She spoke a few words over the sun symbol on her sarcophagus, and with a flash of bright light, it broke off and fell to the dusty floor. "Take it. It is now a wardstone... carry it, stay close together, and move quietly. The Shade Lord's creatures will not notice your passing unless you draw attention to yourselves."

"Thank you for your assistance," Valygar said, and picked up the wardstone. "We will do our utmost to free your temple from this fiend."

"We are truly blessed to have an ally such as yourself, Lady Amauna," Anomen said, "but if you do not object to my inquisitiveness... why does your spirit still linger here?"

"My duty was to destroy the Shade Lord. I have not yet fulfilled it," the ghost said quietly, then looked at the cleric; there was a strange weariness in her expression.

"As long as he still exists, I will remain here."

-.-.-

After leaving Amauna's tomb, Mazzy led the party down the path that she and her companions had followed before, through darkened tunnels and dusty chambers. Amauna's wardstone proved true; they passed by numerous shadows, wraiths and skeletons without ever being noticed. Even though their footsteps seemed to go unheard, nobody spoke, just in case the undead would hear them after all.

Soon, Mazzy directed them all into an empty chamber with only one doorway, and called for a halt. "We are not far from the dragon's lair," she said. "We should rest for a while here, and gather our strength. I also think it is time for our leader to tell us what our plans are; I would not go blindly into this battle."

"You are right," Valygar said. "It is time." He sat heavily down on the floor, his back resting against the solid rock wall. "Most of you know of my ancestor, the necromancer Lavok, and that I recently vanquished him. Most of you do not know that he had let himself become possessed by a demon. It needed flesh to stay on this plane, and repaid him with longevity. My companions and I knew nothing of this creature until we had beaten down Lavok. The demon left him on the brink of death... and possessed me. I was only saved by the quick actions of the knights that were fighting by my side. They set upon me. The demon had been weakened - whether from the battle or from possessing my body, I do not know - and the knights were able to drive it out of me without killing me. Before it could attempt to claim another body, they destroyed it."

"And you suspect the Shade Lord will do the same thing," Edwin said, studiously examining his fingernails.

"Yes. It is likely that he will attempt to possess one of us. We - do not interrupt me, wizard! We must be prepared to fight him in more than one host. If such a thing comes to pass... I intend for that host to be me."

"But -"

"No, Mazzy. I will not suffer any of you to endure such a thing in my stead. Come, let us sit down. I will explain further while we rest."

-.-.-

The shadow dragon's lair was shaped very much like a crater; it was almost as if some wizard, mad with power, had used his strongest spells to scoop out a circular pit right in the middle of the temple ruins. The dragon itself lay in the center of the pit, lazily coiled up around a small pile of bones that somehow was visible even through the bulk of the dragon's body, and the all too familiar sea of dark fog billowed above it. Mazzy raised a finger to her lips in warning, and the group started a slow, careful climb down into the pit, taking care to stay close to each other and to the protection of the wardstone even as they traversed the sloping sides of the pit, using every slight protrusion of rock as a foothold. Some of the rocks were looser than they appeared, and many slipped loose, creating minuscule landslides that made everyone hold their breath, but the dragon seemed to be used to such things; its only reaction was to lift its head just enough to glance at them with large, empty eyes. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, it settled down again almost immediately.

Their descent stopped a hundred feet from the dragon, where the surface of the pit was level enough to walk without fear of anyone losing their balance, and they moved slowly in a semicircle around the dragon towards the opposite side of the lair. There was an opening high up on that side of the pit; when the dragon had destroyed Mazzy's friends, the Shade Lord had entered the lair there. A second grueling climb, up instead of down, and the group found themselves in a short corridor, its walls still showing traces of elaborate carvings. Amauna's wardstone had held.

At the end of the corridor, a flight of worn stone steps led up to a walled courtyard, crisscrossed by a lattice of ancient paths. Something that looked like a seated statue, even darker than its surroundings, stood in the very middle of the courtyard, and a figure wreathed in shadow stood beside it. As the group approached, it turned to look at them.

"My knight miniature has escaped, and returned with more souls to feed upon," the figure said in a voice that sounded like ashes. "Welcome, all."

The figure pointed at them, and Amauna's wardstone crumbled to dust in Valygar's hands.


	16. Chapter 87: Release

**Chapter 87: Release**

"Tell me, Lady Knight, who have you brought for me this time?" the Shade Lord asked. "More unlucky adventurers to swell the ranks of my dark army?"

"Far from it, fiend. We are the light that shall dispel your darkness!" Anomen called out. His voice did not seem to carry well, as if the darkness swallowed sound as well as light.

"Bravado. Tiresome, and predictable." The Shade Lord gestured towards the far end of the courtyard, and one by one, several shadows emerged from the gloom.

"Sssssthhh... Mazzy... you left us here...," the first shadow whispered. "No matter... come... join the delightful darknesss..." The other shadows made some disturbing chittering sounds, almost as if they were trying to laugh.

"Patrick!" Mazzy cried out. A look of anguish passed over her face, then she seemed to steel herself. "No, not Patrick, only his twisted spirit. My poor friends, what has he done to you?"

"He's given us back... our existence..." another shadow said. "Sssthhh... we're all here, Mazzy."

"Ready yourselves," Valygar whispered.

"Join us..." Shadow Patrick hissed. "Embrace the master... give the gift of flesh..."

"Never! Every fiber in my being would resist such a thing, and Patrick - my Patrick - would never have asked it of me!" Mazzy turned to glare at the Shade Lord. "Twisted fiend, only death will stop me from avenging the brave souls that you have stolen!"

The shadows chittered, and the Shade Lord laughed. "So noble! A night on this altar would have made you a worthy consort. Don't look so harshly upon me. You would be a most evil Shade. The Laws of Chaos subvert. The noblest souls in life make for deliciously evil undead..."

"You will be fully dead when I am through with you," Mazzy growled quietly.

"Is this is how you will have it? Regrettable. We would have ruled these weak fools together. Come, my shades, make short work of them! They shall join our army if not our family!"

"Now!"

On Valygar's cue, everyone sprang into action. Ember closed her eyes and chanted a few syllables, short yet powerful, that would bond her and her companions closer together in combat, allowing them to fight in defensive harmony. Mere moments after she completed her spell, a haste spell cast by Edwin descended upon her, speeding up both her senses and her reactions, followed by blessings from Anomen's god, strengthening her body and spirit. Hefting her staff, she hurried to join Minsc and Yoshimo, who were fighting the Shade Lord's minions.

Just like they had planned - and on his insistence - Valygar was the only one to confront the Shade Lord up close, pitting his katana against cruel spells and a shadowy blade. He was assisted from afar by Mazzy, who sent burning arrow after burning arrow through their enemy's incorporeal body, and Edwin and Anomen, who attacked with magic. Jets of flame and bolts of holy energy flew through the air, each spell illuminating the courtyard with a flash of red or white for a brief instant before striking the Shade Lord.

And somewhere within the Shade Lord's ghostly form, the ranger Merella was still alive.

Ember could feel her.

The sensation was far from the acute awareness of life that came with her druidic meditations; instead, it was Ember's blood that whispered to her about Merella. Something within her core longed to take on the only enemy who was still alive, the only one who still had blood to spill, the only one who could still be murdered. _But she is not the enemy._ Gritting her teeth, Ember ducked so that Minsc could swing his blade over her back, and rammed the end of her staff through a ghostly head. There were so many shadows, and they were moving closer to where the casters and Mazzy stood -

One of the shadows broke off and lunged at Mazzy, but it never reached her; in one fluid motion, Yoshimo threw his katana at the shadow. The blade slashed through the shadow's torso and embedded itself in the ground, standing on end with its tip wedged between two of the tiles that covered the courtyard paths. The Kara-Turan winced as he pulled the blade free, but evidently, it had not been damaged by the contact with the ground; with a sigh of with relief, he spun around to cut down another shadow.

"Arvoreen protect me," Mazzy whispered, and dropped her bow.

The Shade Lord released his host and rose up like a pillar of black flame, leaving Merella's body crumpled on the ground below him. The writhing mass of darkness coursed straight past Valygar and flooded into Mazzy.

"No!" Valygar shouted in despair. Tendrils of shadow weaved around the halfling, trying to envelop her as she staggered back and forth, clearly trying to fight off the Shade Lord. Then, she lurched towards the dark altar. Her right arm, completely wrapped in shadow, reached out and touched the altar. The Shade Lord laughed, and consumed Mazzy.

"Thaxll'ssillyia!" the Shade Lord shouted. A deep roar, loud enough to make the ground tremble under their feet, came from the direction of the pit.

 _The dragon!_

Raising her staff to strike, Ember ran towards the Shade Lord. Valygar's plan to protect the rest of them had proven futile, and they would not be able to stand against the dragon; their only chance was to somehow end this before the dragon got there. _But how?_ She aimed her staff at the Shade Lord's head, but was violently knocked to the ground well before her blow landed; moments later, Minsc was sent crashing into one of the few trees that stood in the courtyard. The fiend that had taken Mazzy no longer held a blade, but evidently, he had no use for one.

But he was still leaning against the altar. His right hand never broke contact with it.

She looked towards Edwin, and their eyes met in understanding. The wizard immediately started to pelt the altar with lightning spells, the noise almost drowning out the sound of giant, beating wings, while Ember closed her eyes and whispered an incantation to the dull, starving grasses and shrubs in the courtyard. Her words woke the plants from their daze, and they quickly sent creepers and tendrils towards the altar, using their last reserves to probe an object they had so far avoided touching at all. Tiny roots found minuscule cracks, and began to work their way in.

With a snarl, the Shade Lord turned towards Ember. Valygar and Yoshimo went between them, holding him off with their katanas.

"Anomen!" Ember shouted. "The altar!"

The cleric nodded, knocked a shadow away from him and towards Minsc's waiting blade, and started praying. Bolts of white light struck the altar with an almost palpable force, adding to the effect of the plant roots and Edwin's lightning.

The shadow dragon, with wings of darkness and eyes that burned black, appeared over the courtyard wall.

The dark surface of the altar shattered, revealing itself to be nothing but a crust. An older altar of pure gold lay beneath it.

"NO!"

As the Shade Lord screamed, his body withered and shrank. Mazzy's form reappeared, surrounded by wisps and strands of darkness that seemed to be trying to pull away from her and away from the golden altar, but it could not escape; grimacing with effort, Mazzy seemed to be holding the Shade Lord within her even as she clung to the altar. A high-pitched wail escaped through her mouth. The dragon hung still in mid-air, as if confused.

Above them, the dark clouds churned wildly, then began to break up. Beams of midday sunlight shot through the gaps and tore through the shadow dragon, ripping it to shreds that burned away to nothingness. Sunlight fell upon Mazzy; the darkness fell away from her, much like a fine dust being blown away from a surface, and vanished. The remaining shadows dissipated as daylight flooded the courtyard for the first time in months.

"I knew," Mazzy muttered as she crouched by the foot of the altar, shivering. "I knew I was the one he would try to claim, no matter what we did. I knew."

"Free..." a hoarse voice whispered. It was Merella, breathing quickly and shallowly. "Myself again... Thank y..." Her words trailed off, and her breathing stopped.

Yoshimo kneeled over the ranger's dead body. "She is smiling," he said quietly.

-.-.-

While the forest woke up around the temple, the small group gathered around the golden altar.

"It is done, though the vengeance is empty," Mazzy said bitterly. "Patrick and my companions had to serve in death as slaves to the Shade Lord."

"They died with honour, regardless of what the Shade Lord did to them afterwards," Valygar said.

"They were good people, who fought always for justice." Mazzy sighed. "Theirs was a truly evil fate. Would that I could honour their sacrifice..."

"The god that this altar stood for is long dead," Yoshimo said. "Would it not make a fine memorial to your fallen comrades?"

"Boo agrees! Light and justice and righteousness belong here, and Boo tells me that happy birds will soon also belong here again. It will make a very nice memorial for such great friends!"

A trace of a smile crossed Mazzy's face. "I... I think they would appreciate that."

The group returned to the dragon's lair, where they found Mazzy's friends' weapons scattered across the floor of the pit, and brought the gear back to the altar. Valygar and Minsc wrapped Merella's body in her own cloak - she would have preferred being buried near her cabin, Valygar said - while the rest cleared ancient leaves and dust away from the base of the altar.

"My lost companions, my boon friends," Mazzy said as she solemnly placed her friends' weapons in front of the altar. "May your souls rest in peace. I shall always carry your courage and your honour with me; I shall strike down evil in your name. Know, noble heroes, that you are not forgotten. May this altar always stand as a monument to your unselfish courage." The halfling let the last weapon, a short sword, rest in her hands for a few lingering moments before gently placing it beside the others. "Farewell."

For a short while, Mazzy just kneeled in front of the altar, then she stood up and wiped her eyes.

A horrible suspicion filled Ember. "The last blade... was that Patrick's?"

Mazzy looked at her. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, as if she had lost something vital and didn't quite know what to do without it. "He was my husband."

-.-.-

There were no shadows left in the temple, and as the group made their way back to Amauna's tomb, the only traces they saw of the undead were small piles of bone where the skeletons had collapsed, their spirits freed through the destruction of the Shade Lord. Gaps and cracks in the ceiling of the temple ruins let more than enough light in to dispel the gloom that had filled the chambers before; they no longer felt like a part of a dungeon, but rather like someone's home, abandoned an eternity ago.

Amauna herself was the only spirit that lingered in the temple. The ceiling of her tomb was still sound, and the chamber lay in darkness, but the ghost's face was radiant with joy.

"You have done it!" Amauna exclaimed. "The Shade Lord is no more. My duty has been fulfilled." She waved a transparent hand towards the glass doors set in one of the walls of the chamber, then backed away as the doors slowly drifted open, revealing the altar of the Eternal Sun.

The golden altar in the courtyard was simple, rigid, logical; a table upon which offerings could be placed. The altar of the Eternal Sun was not a table, but a statue of a robed woman. Her gentle face looked down upon her lap, where she cradled a giant, multifaceted gem that seemed to pour out sunlight, bathing the room and most of Amauna's tomb in a brilliant golden-white light.

"I will go, now, to rejoin my Keeper of the Eternal Sun," Amauna said from the only remaining shadowed corner. "I owe my freedom to you, and will always be thankful. Live, my friends... live long and live well. May the Light be forever victorious."

With a smile on her face, Amauna stepped into the light from the sun gem. The light shone through her, like sunshine on a delicate veil, and gently washed her form away with it until only the gem and its radiance remained.

The child prophetess had gone home.


	17. Chapter 88: Images of Home

**Chapter 88: Images of Home**

Three days after destroying the Shade Lord, the group arrived back in Imnesvale. Ember and her companions stayed there for two days, just long enough to attend Merella's funeral. The ranger was lain to rest in a bright forest glade near her cabin; according to Valygar, it was a spot she had grown fond of since she'd arrived in the village. The funeral was quiet, with few speeches and little ceremony, and Valygar shoveled the dirt over her grave himself.

With the shadows gone, the village seemed to be slowly drifting back to normal. This far from the forest and the temple, the threat had been subtle, and there were no tell-tale signs that let the villagers know with absolute certainty that the problem had been dealt with; all they had was Valygar's word, and even as much as they trusted their Lord and protector, it would take a while for their hearts to fully stop expecting someone else to turn up dead or missing. Still, even as the villagers mourned their dead, their eyes held a hopefulness that had not been there before, and every single day that passed without a grisly discovery seemed to help set their hearts at ease, a little at a time.

The dead man in the woods was finally identified, thanks to Minister Lloyd; he recognized the man's signet ring as one belonging to a young noble from Waterdeep who had passed through the village several months earlier in search for the Umar Witch. Arrangements were made to send the ring to his family, along with a letter detailing how he'd been found; the letter made no mention of the very real possibility that he might have fallen to the Shade Lord.

In the two days that they spent in the village, Ember and her friends got some much needed rest, and prepared to continue onwards to Trademeet. The town was Mazzy Fentan's home, and they were to escort the halfling to her family; once that was done, they'd look for signs of Rejiek the skinner murderer in the area, and, with any luck, they'd be able to acquire some new gear as well. Valygar had instructed them to mention his name to several of the town's merchants, and Edwin eagerly and repeatedly pointed out that Trademeet was one of the best places in the area (even if it still couldn't even dream of comparing with the bazaars in Thay) for acquiring both equipment and information.

On the evening before the group's departure, Valygar summoned them to his cabin to collect their pay. "Are you all set, then?" he asked as they arrived.

"I think so," Ember replied.

"Good. How is Mazzy?"

"Our small friend is sleeping, back at the inn," Yoshimo said.

"Boo is not surprised that she is so sleepy," Minsc announced. "That kind of heroing can make any man or hamster tired, even one as large as Minsc!"

"Indeed it can," Valygar said. "Mazzy endured much. I should have listened to her... it was obvious that the Shade Lord would want the target he had already chosen. She might have suffered less, had I not thought I could usurp her role."

"You meant well," Ember said. "I don't think we would have done any better than we did. And she was prepared for it, even if we weren't."

"Perhaps. Come, my friends." Valygar led them into the rough yet comfortable cabin, and presented Ember with a small pouch of gemstones.

"Thank you," Ember said, and opened the pouch. A smile spread across her face at the sight of the contents; the gems were easily worth over three thousand. _Over halfway there, Immy!_

"Your assistance was invaluable. I have some items for you, as well." A stack of documents lay on a table; Valygar picked them up and handed them to Edwin. "I hope you will use these wisely, mage."

"There could be no doubt about that," Edwin sneered, and leafed through the spellscrolls. "(I know this... and this... and this... what good are they if I already have them in my spellbook? ...Wait.)" The wizard fell silent, and the sneer on his face softened. "Yes. Yes, they will be set to good use."

"There is more." Valygar retrieved a beautiful set of leather armour from a cabinet, and handed it to Ember. It was made from very dark leather, decorated with ornate carvings of leaves; as Ember ran her fingers over its surface, she felt the distinctive warmth that she'd learned to associate with magical items. It was the finest set of leathers she had ever seen. "It was to be a gift for Merella," Valygar said. "She was a good friend... a good person. I think she would appreciate my giving this to you."

"I'll be honoured to wear it," Ember said quietly.

-.-.-

Trademeet was just far enough away from Umar Hills that it could not be easily reached in one day. Taking it easy for Mazzy's sake, the group camped for the night in a secluded glade that lay two thirds of the way to the trading town. It was a peaceful place, far from the area that had suffered under the Shade Lord's influence, with a slowly trickling stream and several large, sheltering trees.

As they slept, Ember dreamed of Candlekeep again. She was standing in the main chamber of the library, surrounded by a myriad of extremely lifelike statues, all carved from cold, hard granite. The chamber was utterly silent, and she knew that every room on every floor of the building was empty; in this library, there were no living, breathing acolytes to leaf through books or to copy down manuscripts with the faint scratching sounds of pen against parchment. There was only one other being in the entire building, possibly even in the entire keep or the entire world, and he stood by a pulpit just in front of her. Irenicus was about to start his next lecture.

"Life... is strength," her captor intoned. "This is not to be contested; it seems logical enough. You live; you affect your world. But is it what you need? You are... _different_... inside."

He gestured at one of the statues, and it came to life. A heavy-set woman with strong arms, greying hair, and hands callused by years of work, looked around the library.

"This woman lives and has strength of a sort," Irenicus said. "She lost her parents to plague, her husband to war, but she persevered. Her farm has prospered, her name is respected, and her children are fed and safe. She lived as she thought she should." The woman stood up straighter, bearing herself with a distinct pride.

"And now, she is dead."

The woman's body crumbled, as though she were made of sand that had suddenly become too dry to stick together.

"Her land will be divided, her children will move on, and she will be forgotten," the mage continued disinterestedly. "She lived a 'good' life, but she had no power. She was a slave to death." Irenicus looked straight at Ember with his piercing blue eyes, which were just as horrible and cold as she remembered them. "I wonder if you are destined to be forgotten. Will your life fade in the shadow of greater beings? You are born of murder, the very essence of that which takes life. You have power, if you wish it."

More statues came to life around her. Irenicus pointed at some of them, and they crumbled to dust and ashes, but the rest just stood there, silently looking around at each other. One by one, their gazes came to rest upon Ember. Their lives were in her hands, and all she had to do was...

"No!" she shouted. "I want none of this!"

"Really?"

"Your horrors hold no interest for me."

"Your interests matter not; not when your actions affect so many others than yourself. You will come to realize how little choice you have." With a wave of his hand, Irenicus summoned life into yet another statue. It was Imoen, looking confused and defenseless and somehow dangerous.

 _But this is Imoen! How could she be a threat to me?_ Ember found herself fighting a strong urge to raise her hand against her friend, to destroy her with as little thought as one might give to removing any insignificant obstacle in ones path. _How could she possibly stand in my way?!_

"You will do what you must, become what you must, or others will pay for your cowardice."

"I said no."

"You **will** accept the gifts offered to you," Irenicus stated. He raised a hand and pointed at Imoen. Her body shattered in a cascade of golden sparks that faded away to blackness, taking the dream with them.

-.-.-

"My lady! Are you well?"

"What..?" Still reeling from the dream, Ember looked up. In the faint glow from the remains of the campfire, she could barely make out Anomen's concerned face.

"You cried out in your sleep," the cleric said quietly, "and judging by your countenance, you are clearly shaken."

"Just a dream," Ember said automatically.

"Shall I fetch you anything? Some water, perhaps?"

"Please."

She watched him as he walked to the campfire, placed a fresh log on it, and exchanged a few words with Yoshimo, who was on watch. The Kara-Turan nodded slightly in her direction as Anomen fetched something from their gear and headed towards the stream. Before long, the cleric returned to her, carrying a freshly filled waterskin.

"Here, my lady, drink from this."

"Thank you," Ember said, and took several deep sips from the skin. "I woke you up, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"Ah, you need not apologize," Anomen said, and ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to straighten it. "Observe how none of the others stirred at all; unexpected noises at night will often startle me awake where others continue their slumber. I... I acquired this trait in my childhood, and I fear it is a habit that has proven impossible to eradicate."

"Such a trait must be very inconvenient at times," she said with a smile. The cleric was meticulous to the point of obsession about his grooming, even on the road, and she couldn't recall ever seeing him with stubble on his cheeks and sleep-tangled hair before.

"Aye, it can be, especially during campaigns," Anomen confessed. "I choose to consider it a good thing, seeing as no creature can sneak up on a light sleeper."

"That's a good way to look at it, I suppose."

"Do you wish to speak of your dream?"

"Not really," Ember said hesitantly. "I dreamed that Irenicus was at Candlekeep, in the library, lecturing me about... something." _But it wasn't really Irenicus, and I know perfectly well what it was lecturing me about._

The Helmite winced. "A most uncomfortable juxtaposition, I imagine."

"It's not exactly how I'd like to think of home, no."

"Would you tell me a little about Candlekeep? Whenever one hears mention of the keep, 'tis always about the splendours of its library. I would be glad to learn how it was to be raised in such a place."

"Well... it was peaceful. Quiet. I was the only child there until Imoen arrived - I think I was five or six, then - but I rarely felt lonely. I learned how to entertain myself, and Gorion always spent a lot of time with me."

"He was your foster father, was he not? What was your relationship with him like?"

"We were very close. He made sure I never felt alone, even before Imoen came. He read for me at night until well past the time I'd learned to read for myself - I don't think it'd be possible to grow up in Candlekeep and not learn that! - and whenever he could, he'd take me on short outings into the woodlands around the keep, just so I'd get a change of scenery. He always encouraged me to do good, and did his best to teach me how to." She sighed. "He was a kind and patient man, and a great mentor. I miss him."

"I see. I must admit, my lady, that I am rather jealous of you. I would have given much for my father to be my mentor in such a fashion. He..." Anomen paused. "Ah, well. It matters not. The hour grows late. You should get some more sleep; we have a long day ahead of us."

"I can try," Ember said, and handed him back the waterskin. "I feel a bit better now. Thank you."

A smile crossed the cleric's face. "You are most welcome. Sleep well, my lady. I shall go and relieve Yoshimo of his watch."

They exchanged goodnights, and Anomen went towards the campfire where Yoshimo was sitting. Ember nestled deeper into the blankets of her bedroll. She really did feel better; talking about Gorion had chased away the worst memories of the dream. It had almost been like before, when she and Kivan had talked at night. _Except that Anomen doesn't know._ But that didn't matter, she decided, and closed her eyes.

After all, there was more than enough stuff that she didn't know about him, either.


	18. Chapter 89: A Warm Welcome

**Chapter 89: A Warm Welcome**

What had started as a convenient campsite on the outskirts of the forests of Tethyr, situated where the main road between Athkatla and Tethyr branched off towards Murann and Riatavin, had grown into Trademeet, one of the largest and most distinctive towns in southeast Amn. Every building in the town was made of wood, taken from the massive forest to the south. Skilled woodcarvers, inspired by the art of a half dozen different cultures, wrought leafy vines, waterfalls, and stylized animals on shutters, doorposts and eaves, and the streets were paved with coloured stones, often laid in giant mosaics. It was a beautiful town, one that had prospered even when its patron deity, Waukeen, had disappeared during the Time of Troubles, and it was known wide and far as a peaceful haven on one of the most important trade routes in Amn.

Ember and her companions arrived at the peaceful haven to find it under attack.

At the eastern entrance to the town, the ornately carved gates had been destroyed. Heavily armed guards were defending the opening against a score of animals; black bears and brown bears, wolves, snakes, and giant spiders swarmed around the gates, charging the guards and tearing at the walls, attacking with an unnatural ferociousness that reminded Ember of how dire wolves behaved, except only worse.

"How can this be?" Minsc bellowed, a shocked expression on his face. "Boo does not believe his eyes!"

"Neither do I," Ember muttered, staring at the chaos in front of them.

"Come, my companions! We must assist them against these beasts!" With that, Mazzy drew her sword and ran towards the spiders. Jolted out of their stunned inactivity, Anomen and Yoshimo followed the halfling, while a bored-looking Edwin chanted a short spell, sending a small fireball towards a cluster of snakes. Minsc went after the bears, hollering and waving his sword to scare them away, but they paid the unhappy ranger no heed until he joined the battle against them.

With a bloodcurdling howl, a frenzied wolf lunged at one of the guards, knocking him to the ground and ripping at his armour, trying to bite through the chainmail. Ember ran towards them and knocked the wolf away from the guard with a quick jab of her staff. The creature rolled away, then got to its feet and slowly padded towards her, drooling and snarling, looking for all the world as if it had gone rabid. _But that can't be it._ Determined to learned what caused its madness, Ember locked eyes with the wolf and whispered a short cantrip that would let her touch its mind.

Except she couldn't get in.

The wolf's mind was locked against her.

A powerful will, far stronger than the wolf's own, drove it to attack the town. The force of this will overrode every natural instinct the wolf had; food, drink, shelter, hiding from foes - none of that mattered to the wolf any more. Its only desire was to destroy Trademeet, and nothing could get through to it to convince it otherwise.

 _Going rabid would almost have been a blessing by comparison,_ Ember mused bitterly as she struck the wolf a second time. Summoning all her strength, she brought her staff down upon the wolf's neck. She could almost hear a snap as the spine broke. The wolf twitched spasmodically, then lay still, reduced to a pile of meat and bones through her will.

Pushing the wolf's death from her mind, Ember raised her staff and moved to head off another wolf. Beside her, the guard scrambled to his feet. Other than a bloody gash across his cheek, he seemed to be unharmed.

"You... you spoke to the wolf," the guard said, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"It was just a cantrip," Ember said, and knocked a wolf into one of the rosebushes that grew at the foot of the gate posts. She was tempted to cast a spell that'd make the thorny brambles ensnare the wolf, but it'd only delay the inevitable; there was nothing she could do for these creatures, other than giving them a quick death. "I wanted to see if I could make it stop attacking, but I can't."

"Is that so," the guard grumbled, and brought his sword down on the charging wolf.

Within a few minutes, the fight was over. The animals all lay dead on the bloodstained ground, as did two of the guards, and many of the defenders had been injured; Anomen was already kneeling beside a wounded guard, both of them bathed in the soft glow of healing spells, and Mazzy seemed to be preparing a bandage for one of the three guards she was talking with. Ember gingerly stepped around a dead bear, making her way towards a young man who was laying on the ground and clutching his belly, and found her path blocked by the guard she'd saved and a stern, blonde woman whose guard armour was accented with red stripes.

"You are a druid?" the woman asked bluntly.

 _Now what?_ "Yes, I am," Ember replied. "What of it?"

"Just what I needed," the woman grumbled. "Dobson, get her to the Trade Hall before this gets out."

A trickle of fear wormed its way down her spine. "What are you talking about?"

"It is for your own good!" the guard said, and tried to grab her by the elbow.

"Let go!" Ember pulled her arm free of the guard's grasp.

Moments later, the guard was shoved away from her by a furious Minsc. "What are you doing to my witch?!" he demanded, glaring at both the captain and the guard. "You will not touch her, or Minsc will have to make very bad things happen!"

"Er..." the guard stammered.

"She is not safe here," the captain said, glaring back at Minsc before turning to Ember. "I have nothing against your kind, but my townsfolk do, and the last thing I need is the problems your presence on the street would cause. So, will you let Dobson escort you to the Trade Hall, or am I going to have to arrest you for your own safety?"

"First, tell me why druids are so hated here!"

"Look around," the captain said. "Who do you think caused this?"

 _Druids did this?_ Ember's blood ran cold. What kind of druid would -

Shadow druids might. If they hated a forest town enough, they just might.

"I"ll go, if Minsc can come with me," she said.

-.-.-

The Trade Hall was a very large building, with creamy white walls that were accented by roof shingles and support beams the colour of rich honey. Its doors were made from carved and polished oak, as were the window trimmings and the furniture within it, and the floors were covered with smooth slate tiles.

Being locked in one of its offices for over an hour had given Ember ample opportunity to study the hall's construction.

Whatever it was that was going on, she didn't like it one bit. It had all happened so fast; Dobson, the guard, had led them away from the battlesite without giving her a chance to alert the others, and she could only hope that someone had let them know where she and Minsc were. Nobody had said a word to them as they were escorted into the building and locked in the office, and nobody had come to offer any explanations since; they had been left completely alone, with only a jug of water and some goblets to keep them company. Ember was starting to wonder if she'd been arrested after all.

Suddenly, Minsc jumped to his feet. "Boo says someone is coming!"

The door opened, and a broadshouldered man wearing dark plate mail stepped into the room. "Greetings," he said, extending his hand first to Ember, then to Minsc. "I am Lord Logan Coprith, High Merchant of Trademeet. I apologize for the welcome you have received, but it was necessary; we have had a troubled season, and strangers, especially druids, are not easily trusted these days. However, Mazzy Fentan has told us of the assistance you have given her, and your actions at the gate speak for themselves. For both these things, you have our gratitude."

"What has happened here?" Ember asked. "Before they locked us up in here, the guards implied that druids have set the forest animals against you."

"And so it does appear," Lord Coprith said wearily. "The very land is against us. Animals attack, and even the foliage strangles. At first, we did not know where to place blame, but members of a caravan that was attacked in the forest saw several figures directing the chaos. They were druids, belonging to a nearby grove that has always been peaceful in the past. Pardon me." The High Merchant poured himself a goblet of water and drank deeply from it before continuing. "There may be a way to discover why they have turned against us, but I will require outside assistance. Mazzy has vouched for you and your companions, and I think you may be ideally suited for my needs."

"I see," Ember said. "What do you have in mind?"

"A druid entered the town last week. The townspeople captured him, and would have quartered him in the street if I had not locked him up. He claims he is here to investigate the druids in the grove, and I believe him. Unfortunately, many of our citizens already believe him guilty, and he remains behind bars if only to avoid a public burning. What I would have you do is escort him to his task and see what you might learn. I would seem to be collaborating if my men or I were to help him, and alone he may not make it out of town. Will you help?"

"We can not allow our brothers in the woods to fall to evil!" Minsc exclaimed. "If they have forgotten the friendly handshake of goodness, then we must remind them with a bootkick of justice!"

"If there is anything I can do, I will do it," Ember said, "but I'd like to know more of this druid. May I speak with him?"

"Of course," Lord Coprith said. "You may pass and speak with him. He may also leave under promise of your care."

Two guards were summoned, and escorted Ember and Minsc to the basement. Made of stone, it was considerably cooler than the wooden chambers of the main level and contained, in addition to several storage chambers, a dozen or so iron barred cells. The druid, a tall man with tattoos on his face and feathers in his hair, was in the farthest cell, sitting crosslegged on the floor with his eyes closed and his hands folded in his lap; as soon as the guards withdrew out of earshot, he looked up and studied Ember and Minsc with piercing dark eyes.

"Hello and well met to you," he said. "I am Cernd, though my identity is surely no secret after the fuss I have caused here. You look pleasant enough; are you friends of that charming Lord Coprith? I've made very few friends among the merchants."

"Well met, Cernd," Ember replied. "I am Ember, and this is Minsc. Lord Coprith has asked us to escort you out of town, but I wanted to talk with you first."

"Coprith chose well: caution will win the day," Cernd said, and smiled. "He seemed less prone to rash action than the merchants, though I admit they had little reason to trust me. I should have crept quietly as the vine instead of blustering as the wind. On occasion I forget the subtleties that allows nature to progress. Ahh, the blight shall pass, and I will return to cultivate better relations when the time is right. For the present, what do you wish to know?"

"What exactly are you trying to do here?"

"I was sent from the north to investigate why the druid order of this region has severed its ties with the traditional hierarchy. It is not unheard of, but the attacks have me worried. It can only lead to greater evils; these people will eventually strike out as an animal cornered. Answer me this: you are a fellow servant of nature, are you not?"

"Yes, I am."

"Little Ember follows the Lady of the Forest, as does Minsc," Minsc said proudly.

"Then both of you will recognize the danger," Cernd said. "The balance of this area is in disarray, and once it falls there will be hardship for all. I know many druids in this region, and they would not support such actions without due cause. I suspect that there has been a change in leadership here."

"Do you think shadow druids might be involved? They're the only druids I've encountered that might do such a thing," Ember said, and added apologetically, "not that I've met many other druids, that is."

"Young one, the sapling can feel the weather as well as the tree does. I, too, have seen the influence of shadow druids in these attacks," Cernd said. "It is the duty of any druid to find this new leader and ascertain if this is for the best of nature. I might succeed alone, but I would much rather have the backing of others. Are you up for the task?"

"Yes," Ember said. "I will help as best I can." She signalled to the guards to return, and had them unlock Cernd's cell. The druid stood up, stretched his arms, gathered his coarse brown robes around him, and fetched a staff from the corner of the cell.

"Then let us go and do what must be done," he said, and strode out of the cell like a king leaving his audience chamber.


	19. Chapter 90: Peace and Harmony

**Chapter 90: Peace and Harmony**

After a quick conversation with Lord Coprith and with Mazzy, who immediately offered her assistance, the halfling led Ember, Minsc and Cernd to another office. Minsc pulled the door open, revealing Yoshimo and Edwin sitting at a large table of polished oak. Anomen stood in the middle of the room, looking as if he'd been pacing back and forth and then stopped in mid-stride at the sound of the door.

"My lady!" Anomen exclaimed. "Have they treated you well?"

"Reasonably," she replied. "This is -"

"The druid they wanted us to escort," Edwin said dourly. "Yes, we are well aware of the situation. Since he is with you, are we to assume you agreed to the mission?"

"Yes, I did."

"(Of course she did,)" the wizard grumbled.

"My lady, I must question the wisdom in doing such a service for these people," Anomen said. "With the unkind manner in which they have welcomed you, I see no reason to trust that they will treat you courteously when we return."

"Things are not usually as they are now," Mazzy said. "Under normal conditions, all travellers are given a warm welcome, and we are at peace with the druids of the forest. This situation need not last; we may well be able to put an end to it."

"(Hmpf.) Tell me, why should we have to waste our valuable time with this... this nonsense, when there are far more important matters to attend to?!"

"I must agree with the wizard," Yoshimo said. "Our skills and talents do, of course, make it far easier for us to get this druid - your name is Cernd, is it not? - out of town than it would be for the guards, but escorting him into the forest sounds both time-consuming and dangerous."

"Aye, indeed! One must wonder why they would ask such a favour of a group of strangers, when they would not send any of their kind."

"I am one of 'their kind', and I am going."

"Minsc will also go, for Boo must know what has changed the animals! His very own hamster spirit is in danger until this evil is found and tied down with many difficult knots!"

"(I think we have little to fear from a dire rodent.)"

"You have been away for some time, no? There may be things your townsfolk are keeping from you."

"Are you questioning the honour of Lord Logan?"

 _Wouldn't it feel good to just kill them all?_

"SHUT UP!" Ember shouted.

The room fell silent. Six pairs of eyes, their expressions ranging from confusion to wariness to calm curiosity, stared at her.

Ember drew a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. "You can speculate all you want; it won't matter, because I didn't accept this mission for the sake of the town. But if it helps, I don't think they know anything more than what they've told us, and they are going to pay us enough that not even you, Edwin, can consider it a waste of time." The wizard huffed angrily. "So, if you're done arguing about a decision that has already been made," she continued, "we have to go prepare to get ourselves out of town."

She turned and walked out of the room along with Minsc, Mazzy, and Cernd; a few moments later, the three others followed.

-.-.-

The group escorted Cernd out of Trademeet an hour past sunset. Mazzy led them all down a zigzagging path through empty streets towards the little used western gate, where the guards studiously took as little notice of the group as possible; once out of the town, they looped around it, moving first southwards, then eastwards, and headed into the forest.

It was far from a pleasant jaunt through the woods. The forest floor was damp, with many small puddles and patches of waterlogged moss to step into, and the drier areas were clogged by heavy undergrowth. Traversing that kind of landscape would have been difficult even in daylight; in the glow of Edwin's magelight, it was almost impossible, and the effort only served to worsen everyone's mood. It came as a relief when Cernd called for a halt near a giant sweetmaple tree, large enough and dense enough to provide a sheltered campsite for the night.

In the early hours of morning, they woke up to the slow pattering of rain against the tree's canopy, and the dawn was hidden behind a thick layer of grey clouds. The rain only intensified as the group prepared to continue, and when they moved onwards, large drops pelted the ground around them, bouncing off the leafy fronds of ferns and spawning ripples on the many puddles that lay along their path. The sound of the rain mingled with croaking frogs and a few chirping birds, and every now and then, the quiet chorus was accented by a peal of thunder as it rolled across some distant, unseen hill. It was a very different forest from the ones Ember had seen before, but its presence was still somehow familiar, almost like some distant cousin or a long-lost friend, and she felt infinitely more comfortable traversing its wet and tangled paths than she had felt in the shadowed forests around Umar Hills.

"Rain," Edwin grumbled, making the word sound like the foulest of curses.

The group had followed the uneven trail for about an hour when Cernd suddenly veered off the path and into an almost impenetrable tangle of shrubs and ferns. "There are trolls ahead. I would prefer to avoid them," the druid murmured in explanation. They headed away from the path, moving as quietly as they could, but it was impossible to avoid all sounds; before long, a splash and a muffled curse told their surroundings that Anomen had stepped in a hidden mudhole. The noise was answered by growls, grunts, and the sound of several bodies crashing through branches.

"How many of you have fought trolls before?" Cernd asked.

Mazzy, Yoshimo, and Anomen raised their hands.

"Good. Do you all know what must be done?"

"What does it matter as long as **I** know what must be done? (And I do,)" Edwin said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Four trolls burst out of the undergrowth. They were as tall and gangly as the sketches Ember had seen of them, with long, sinewy limbs and gaunt faces; the slimy appearance of their yellow skin, and their smell, which reminded her of rotting moss, came as more of a surprise.

With a ferocious roar, Minsc charged at the beasts and brought his sword down on a troll leg. It was a blow that would have severed the leg of a human, but it barely broke the troll's skin, and the cut immediately sealed itself.

"Just knock them down! Keep them busy!" Mazzy shouted, using her short sword to ward off one of the trolls. Anomen struck another troll with his war hammer, bowling it over into cluster of reeds, and Cernd and Yoshimo worked together, using staff and katana to trip up one of the trolls, forcing it to its knees. Ember tried using her own staff to do the same, but the troll was more agile than it looked, and easily avoided her attempts to get at its legs.

Edwin raised his hand and chanted a string of syllables. A sphere of flame struck the troll Anomen had knocked over, setting both it and the reeds around it on fire; as resilient as it was when it came to physical damage, the troll's flesh burned easily, and within moments, it was reduced to a charred husk.

The troll Ember was fighting lunged forward, trying to grab her face with long, clawed fingers. She brought her staff up and rammed the end into the troll's shoulder, knocking it away from her and towards Minsc, who struck it with the flat of his sword. It hissed sharply and clutched its arm, which appeared to be wrenched out of its socket or maybe even broken. Guttural screams of pain filled the air as one of the other trolls clawed frenetically at its own torso, which was being seared by spatters of a bright green fluid. Edwin shot a jet of flame at its head, and it crumpled to the ground. With a gleeful look on his face, the wizard spun around, aiming the flame jet at the remaining two trolls.

As quickly as it had started, the fight ended, leaving behind only the stench of burnt troll flesh and a few smouldering plants which were soon put out by the rain.

"Pathetic skirmishes such as this aren't worth the time I spend cleaning my weapons after the battle," Anomen grumbled, using wet grass to wipe troll slime from his hammer. Behind him, Mazzy and Edwin argued about whether or not the wizard had aimed his spells carefully enough to not endanger his allies during the battle.

"Pathetic or not, it appears to have drawn attention," Yoshimo said quietly. An old man, dressed in wet hides and supporting himself with a crooked staff, was walking towards them along the path the trolls had created through the undergrowth.

"You there!" the man shouted. "You will go back the way you have come! This area is under care of the druids of Tethyr, and if you do not leave you will face nature's wrath!"

"And by what authority do you make this threat, Pauden?" Cernd asked, stepping forward to place himself between the man and the rest of the group. "This is not the way of right-thinking servants of nature. Explain yourself."

"Cernd!" Pauden exclaimed, clearly surprised to see the other druid. "You... you have been away some time. Much has changed."

"So I see, though I am confused. The Grand Druid has not heard good things about what has happened here."

"It is the new way, Cernd. We have a new leader to follow, and she has moved us in this direction."

Cernd nodded. "I guessed there might be a new leader; Gragus would never have allowed this."

"She is a shadow druid. Her name is Faldorn."

"Faldorn? Minsc remembers Faldorn! She is a very bad girl!"

"I don't think we could forget her if we tried," Ember said. "We met her last autumn; she was with a group of Shadow Druids in Cloakwood. In her eagerness to destroy an old mine in the forest, she almost drowned us and dozens of others."

"I know of that group. Their removal was a blessing for the Sword Coast," Cernd said, and turned to Pauden. "But now you follow a leader from that stock, obeying her as ants do their queen? Have you not the courage to face her?"

Pauden looked down. "She is very violent, and... she has bonded with the grove."

"She would do such a thing? Performing such a ritual is unheard of, and quite costly to the grove!" Cernd exclaimed, more agitated than Ember had thought him capable of.

"Nevertheless, she has done it. She is now invulnerable outside of challenges, and none have dared issue one as of yet."

"Then I shall discuss this matter with her in a language that she will understand," Cernd growled. "Get out of my sight."

"Walk carefully, Cernd," Pauden said. "I do not enjoy this new role we take, but others do." The older druid bowed his head slightly towards Cernd, then turned and headed back the direction he came from.

"This is worse than I feared," Cernd muttered. "I would never have imagined that any druid, not even a shadow druid, would dare to bond with a grove!"

"If anyone would do it, she's the one," Ember said. She remembered all too clearly what Faldorn had been like; she'd gladly rid the world of people, if she could, and by all means necessary. "What can we do to stop her?"

"I will challenge her for leadership. The ritual of the challenge will temporarily sever her connection with the grove. She will have to fight me as she is, with only her own strength."

"But Boo does not trust Faldorn!" Minsc exclaimed. "She will try to douse our flames of righteousness with the waters of treachery! The mean little girl will not fight fair, like heroes do!"

It does not matter," Cernd said. "As she denies her people's place in the balance, she cannot fully understand her own place, and the only one she will deceive is, ultimately, herself. Come, my friends, let us continue. The grove is not far."


	20. Chapter 91: Into the Grove

**Chapter 91: Into the Grove**

The day only got worse as it went on. The rain continued unabated, the forest seemed to be littered with trolls - according to Cernd, there were far more of them around than there should be - and, as they crossed a particularly swampy area, they startled a pair of myconids. The giant fungoids sprayed a spore cloud at Yoshimo before they fled in terror, leaving the Kara-Turan in a state of utter confusion; dazed and glassy-eyed, he drew his katana and charged at Ember, forcing Minsc and Anomen to knock him unconscious to keep him from attacking her.

"'Tis a treacherous place you have brought us to, druid," Anomen grumbled, kneeling beside Yoshimo and checking his head for fractures.

"The beauty of the wilderness can be deceptive," Mazzy said. "Not all is as it seems. I've defeated much that is evil in just such a place."

"Beauty? **This?** " Edwin sneered, glaring at the rain from deep within the cowl of his overcloak.

"If an apple falls, do you suspect the tree of foul play?" Cernd asked. "The forest does as it must, each part of it playing its role in the greather scheme. The myconids were merely defending themselves. There is no treachery involved; that is the domain of sentient beings."

"Such as Faldorn," Ember said.

"(If that one can be called sentient at all,)" Edwin muttered. "The world would be greatly improved if the shadow druids would take the consequences of the drivel they preach to the fullest, and just kill themselves."

"Yes, Boo, you are right! He is waking up!" Minsc cried, and pointed the tip of his sword at Yoshimo's belly.

The Kara-Turan groaned, moved his arms a little, and blinked a few times before focusing his eyes on the sword. "What happened...?"

"Myconids," Mazzy replied. "Their spores can make you confused and disoriented."

"Boo has to know: does Yoshimo still want to harm little Ember?" Minsc demanded.

Yoshimo rubbed the spot at the back of his head where he'd been struck by the flat of Minsc's blade. "Harm our fearless leader? Why would I want to do... ah, the spores. Rest assured, good Minsc, that I wouldn't dream of it."

"Friend Yoshimo is back!" Minsc beamed, and withdrew his sword. "Hamsters and rangers everywhere, rejoice!"

-.-.-

They encountered the first shadow druids on the outskirts of the grove itself. Two men and a woman, all with matted hair and dressed in ragged, filthy hides, were walking towards them, brandishing rough clubs in a menacing fashion.

"Well, well, look who has come from the sheltered north to join his brothers in the trenches," the foremost of the men said. "Tell me, Cernd, are you here to lecture us?"

"Dalok," Cernd said calmly, and raised a hand in greeting. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We are taking what is ours to retrieve, Cernd," Dalok replied. "We are stripping the invaders of the spoils they rape from the earth! We are doing what is right!" Behind him, the other two druids cheered in agreement.

"But this is not our role," Cernd said, sounding almost as if he were explaining something important to a small child. "Balance is the goal, not slaughter. Trademeet never gouged the land, and yet you besiege it. Gragus would never have allowed this."

"No, he would not, and that is why he is gone. We have a new leader, one that speaks the words we wish to hear. We have a true leader in Faldorn!"

The calm expression slipped from Cernd's face. "She is a shadow druid! They are perversions of our calling!"

"The perversion is thinking that civilization and nature can coexist. We have taken steps in the only way we can as protectors of the wood. Faldorn says -"

"I have come to challenge her to the rituals of ascension! She may flout our way, but even she must obey the rules set down ages ago. That is her hold over you, is it not?"

Dalok laughed. "There are those who obey out of fear, perhaps, but some of us can see the truth; her way is better! We fight for nature, we take what we wish from the town fools, and we will stop your feeble attempt to interfere, Cernd!"

"Death to the enemies of nature!" the other man shouted. He charged past their leader towards Cernd, who welcomed him with two precise jabs of his staff.

Behind them, Dalok started to chant a series of low, rumbling words that Ember easily recognized; he was going to call lightning. Raising her staff, she ran towards the other druid. She was only a few steps away from him, almost within striking range, when the creepers and shrubs that covered the ground tangled themselves around her feet, forcing her to fall down onto a mat of twisting plants. Leafy tendrils wound around her wrists and arms, chaining her to the ground as securely as any iron manacle.

She heard Minsc roar with fury, and managed to turn just enough before the plants bound her completely to see the vicious smile on the woman's face. The woman shouted a word, and a thick, wooden vine wormed its way around Ember's throat, where it tightened like a noose. She thrashed wildly, but her arms could barely move at all, much less get near her throat; she tried to breathe, but could only force a tiny sip of air past the chokehold, no matter how much her lungs demanded it. Cold fear, mingled with rage, ran through her as red and black blotches filled her vision.

There was a bright flash as lightning struck - _who?_ \- and an acrid smell filled the area. Someone screamed.

"Do not move," Yoshimo said, his voice coming from just above Ember's head. The strangling vine loosened, as did the rest of the plants that had wrapped around her body, starting from her head and continuing down her back. She drew several deep, gasping breaths, but even in the elation of being able to breathe again, she forced herself to not move; the blade of Yoshimo's katana had to be skimming her spine as he cut her free, and even though she didn't notice it at all now, she most certainly would if she moved into its path.

"All done," Yoshimo said, and helped Ember pull her arms and legs out of the mass of enchanted plants. They were still twitching and writhing, eager to trap her again, but their movements lacked direction. Clearing leaves and bits of plant stems from her face, she could see why; the woman who had cast the spell lay face down in a patch of red-tinged mud, all but cut in two. Dalok lay near a cluster of ferns, his neck twisted at a very unnatural angle. The other man was the only shadow druid still alive. He sat propped up against the trunk of a silk willow, and Mazzy stood guard over him.

"Is little Ember all right?!" Minsc asked, an edge of panic in his voice.

"Yes," Ember croaked.

"Allow me, my lady," Anomen said. Reaching out a hand, he gently touched the side of her neck with his fingertips and chanted a minor healing spell. Cool water seemed to flow through her bruised throat, washing away the pain and swelling caused by the chokehold.

"Thank you, Anomen," she said, giving him a slight smile. "What happened with the lightning bolt? All of you are standing; didn't it hit anyone?"

"Oh, it did," Yoshimo said. "Our grand wizard drew the bolt to himself, and it did him no harm. It was quite a sight!"

The grand wizard in question merely grinned proudly and muttered something about not being a rank amateur who'd go unprepared into the lands of insane weather-tampering treehuggers. The ground was singed where he must have stood, but from the looks of it, the lightning hadn't as much as curled a hair of his beard.

"We outnumbered them, and we knew how they might fight. They were unwise to stand against us," Cernd said, looking down at the two dead bodies. "May the earth mother forgive your sins against her children."

"We fought as our mistress commanded us," the injured man muttered, droplets of blood appearing on his lips as he spoke. "I surrender now, to return to the woods and restore the balance..."

"No. Your winter has not yet come," Cernd said. He approached the injured man and said a healing prayer over him. "Take us to Faldorn."

-.-.-

Faldorn was sitting, poised like a queen on her throne, on a large rock at the very heart of the grove. Several other druids stood around her, but none of them moved or spoke any more than the massive trees that surrounded them did. There was an eerie stillness in the air; even the sound of the raindrops seemed muted.

"Boo does not like this," Minsc whispered.

Cernd stepped forward.

"Well, what have we here?" Faldorn sneered disdainfully. "Some fools come to stop the righteous force of nature? Laughable. Say what you must and then we shall purge the earth of your filth."

"I am called Cernd," he started. Faldorn interrupted him.

"Ah, Cernd. I have heard your name before. Come to investigate for the Grand Druid, have you? You may tell him that his way is dead. All that dwell here are now druids of shadow, and he can do nothing."

"We shall see, Faldorn," Cernd replied. "You are not invulnerable just yet, though I sense the filthy ritual you have performed. You drain from the land like some vile parasite."

Faldorn laughed. "You may frown upon the bond, but I am stronger than ever with the aid of this grove. The mother feeds me that I might fight for her!"

"You, or just the animals that you force to attack Trademeet?" Ember asked.

"We must all do our part to cleanse the forest," Faldorn said, giving Ember a scrutinizing glare.

"I remember when you would sooner endanger yourself and anyone with you than risk harm to a single animal. Funny how priorities can change, isn't it?"

"And I remember you," Faldorn said, standing up from the rock. "You said you would kill me if you ever saw me again."

"My lady?" Anomen muttered nervously.

Her face contorting into a snarl, Faldorn lunged at Ember and threw her to the ground, then punched her squarely in the center of her chest. The shadow druid was much stronger now than before, teeming with the life and strength of the grove, and she put all of that strength into the rapid blows she dealt Ember. She landed four solid punches before Minsc and Anomen managed to knock her away; Minsc's sword had torn through the rags Faldorn wore, but it hadn't as much as broken her skin.

Rage filled Ember. _Bond or no bond, I'll kill her!_

As the other druids moved to restrain Ember's companions, Ember threw herself at Faldorn and grabbed her by the throat, choking her just as she herself had been less than an hour earlier, just as she had done to Faldorn once before. The shadow druid gasped and pummeled Ember's torso with her fists, but Ember kept squeezing. "You still... need air... don't you?" Ember snarled at her enemy. She could all but feel the life of the grove, coursing through Faldorn under her fingers, so close and ready for the taking...

The entire grove seemed to lurch in pain.

Feeling as if she'd been startled awake from a dream, Ember let go of Faldorn and kicked her away from herself. "Do not touch me again!" she yelled at the shadow druid.

"You... are not natural," Faldorn gasped. Was that fear in her eyes?

"Neither are you," Ember growled.

"Enough!" Cernd cried. "Faldorn, you perpetrate gross crimes here! You are unfit! I challenge you, and by the rites laid down ages ago you cannot refuse!"

"What... what makes you think I would wish to refuse?" Faldorn replied, seeming to regain some of her composure. "I took this grove by force, and I shall keep it in the same manner. Did you think I would retreat? Oh no, Cernd, this is your end. Prepare!"

The shadow druid stalked off towards a ramshackle hut, accompanied by three of the other druids. As she reached the hut, she turned and gave Ember a wary glance, then ducked inside and out of sight.

"You have to beat her," Ember muttered to Cernd. She didn't dare think about what might happen if she let the Bhaaltaint near Faldorn again, even within the bounds of a Challenge.

"If the Mother wills it," Cernd replied evenly. "I will do my best."


	21. Chapter 92: The Challenge

**Chapter 92: The Challenge**

The scene of the challenge was a stone circle, a henge, that stood in a clearing near the heart of the grove. It was outlined by twelve giant standing stones, arranged in six pairs that each supported a massive slab of rock; the stones were heavily encrusted with lichen and mosses, but the surfaces that faced into the circle were completely bare. The ground within the henge was perfectly flat, and covered by a short carpet of grasses. Here and there, scuff marks offered a glimpse of the reddish-brown soil that lay beneath the grass; scars from some previous ritual, maybe even from Faldorn's challenge, Ember guessed.

All the druids of the grove were gathered around the henge, waiting in solemn silence for the challenge master. Once he arrived and invoked the ritual of the challenge, Cernd and Faldorn would fight. As Cernd had told Ember on their way to the grove, the contestants were to fight with nothing but their own abilities; to ensure that, they would use no armour and no weapons other than a crude staff, and all blessing spells and enchantments would be stripped from them as they entered the circle - in Faldorn's case, her link to the grove would be severed. "It is not necessarily a fight to the death," Cernd had said, "but in this case..." He had not elaborated; it wasn't necessary.

The contestants were granted a single hour before the fight, to meditate and prepare. That hour was almost up.

A wizened old man, bent with age, hobbled slowly towards the henge. Long, sparse strands of white hair and beard, soaked through by the drizzling rain, hung limply around his face. _He looks easily old enough to be Pauden's father,_ Ember mused, watching him with concern as he tottered past her. He reached the standing stones, stepped in between them, and stood up straight, gazing at the people outside the circle with piercing blue eyes that spoke of wisdom and clarity of mind, even when the rest of his body was failing him.

"I am the challenge master," the old man said in a clear voice that carried easily across the grove. "Do any here make claim to the challenge? Who is ready?"

"I, Cernd, make claim to the challenge," Cernd said, standing at the edge of the clearing, dressed in his simple robe and holding a plain staff.

"And I, Faldorn, accept!" Faldorn shouted from the opposite edge. She was equipped much as Cernd was.

"One can only hope she doesn't have something extra tucked into the rat's nest she considers to be hair," Edwin muttered; Mazzy hushed him.

As the contestants walked towards the henge, Faldorn turned her head to glare hatefully at Ember. As much as she wanted to return the glare, Ember forced herself to look calmly at the shadow druid.

"One can feel the warmth of her admiration, even from afar," Yoshimo remarked. "If our friend loses, our lives will be in danger."

"I know," Ember sighed. "If he loses, I will challenge her. And if I lose... run."

"Minsc will not run from his witch!"

"We could never abandon you in such a fashion, my lady!"

"You wouldn't be abandoning me," Ember said quietly, "and I'd rather have you alive than be avenged. So do as I say."

Cernd and Faldorn entered the circle from opposite sides - Faldorn stumbled for a moment as she stepped across the boundary - and stood facing each other, staves held ready for combat. The challenge master moved to the edge of the circle, and raised his hands. "The challenge starts," he intoned, and stepped out of the ring.

The two combatants circled each other warily, never taking their eyes off the other. Cernd moved with the practiced ease that came with years of training, but Faldorn had an almost feral grace; it was very hard to guess which one of them might have the upper hand. Every now and then, one of them halted for a moment to chant a quick cantrip, a simple spell designed to strengthen skin or toughen flesh; the protection the cantrips added was no match for a blade or a magical weapon, but in this fight, the slight edge they gave might be enough to turn the tide of battle.

Faldorn attacked first.

Cernd moved to block her, but she feinted away and, with a vicious grin, chanted motion into the grass under his feet. As the grass rippled around Cernd's bare feet, struggling to wrap its stiff, jointed stems around his lower legs, Cernd began a chant of his own, redirecting the river of swaying grass towards Faldorn. The plants danced maniacally for a short while, trying to obey both of the conflicting spells, then settled down and shrank back to normal size.

"(A wizard's duel would be far more exciting,)" Edwin mumbled, earning himself glares from the entire group.

Within the stone circle, Cernd struck at Faldorn, but she smoothly ducked out of the way and counterattacked, landing a solid blow on his hip. Seeming to suppress a wince, the older druid backed off, only to raise his staff and attack her a second time. She twisted sideways, neatly avoiding the blow, but this time, Cernd was ready for her; with a deft twist of his hands, he brought his staff up and sideways, catching her across the shoulder. She cried out in pain, and one of her hands lost its grip on her staff.

"You dare?!" Faldorn shouted, dancing away from Cernd. She planted her staff in the ground and, staring defiantly at him, started a chant to call lighting. A quick jab of his staff interrupted her spell, but she caught him with his guard down, and landed a solid blow across his forehead. He tumbled to the ground, landing in a cascade of muddy droplets, and lay still.

"Had enough, weakling?" Faldorn shouted. Cernd groaned, and moved slightly, but did not stand up. Ember's heart sank. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he getting up? She couldn't have hit him that hard, could she?

"It will be a pleasure to wipe your scourge from the land!" With a harsh laugh, Faldorn began to invoke a summoning spell.

"Dread wolf," one of the druids near Ember grumbled. "Just like when she killed Gragus."

With a growl that sounded more like a wild animal than a man, Cernd abruptly sprang to his feet. His hair rippled and spread across his face and body, his robe tore apart and fell from him in rags, his face elongated into a snout, his teeth and nails grew into fangs and claws. Within the space of a few heartbeats, he had changed completely, and lunged at Faldorn in the shape of a werewolf.

The shadow druid howled with disbelief and rage. Her spell forgotten, she raised her staff to try to ward off the werewolf that had been Cernd, but he - was it even still him? - snatched the staff from her hands, broke it in two, and fell upon her. The shadow druid screamed as the werewolf pinned her to the muddy ground; she struggled for a moment, but couldn't stop him from wrapping his large, clawed hands around her head and violently wrenching it.

The crowd watched in perfect silence as the werewolf stepped away from the body and sank to his knees. A shudder passed through him, and his werewolf features melted away, turning him into a human once more. Naked aside from the mud that was splattered over most of his body, he kneeled on the wet grass, gazing steadily at the challenge master.

The old man stepped into the circle, and raised his hands. "All honour to the Great Druid!" he cried. "Nature has her champion!"

The grove erupted in cheers.

-.-.-

"You knew all along that you'd beat her," Ember said to Cernd that evening. Faldorn's remaining supporters had been rounded up, the rain had given way to a clear, starry sky, and the festivities celebrating the change of leadership were finally winding down. Most of her companions were still sitting near the large bonfire, but Minsc had fallen asleep under the branches of a young sweetmaple, Boo nestled securely in one large palm. She and Cernd sat some distance away from the others, on the trunk of a fallen pine tree. Cernd had a new robe and a couple new feathers in his hair, and the Great Druid's staff, the Staff of Thunder and Lightning, was cradled in his lap.

"I was not certain," the new Great Druid replied, and passed her a wicker bowl full of wild strawberries. "Her lack of understanding of my nature gave me an upper hand, but I still needed the opportunity to change. I could not risk letting her attack me in the moment of weakness before the beast takes over."

"So that's why you waited so long?"

"Yes. I needed her to feel that I was no more a threat than the dormouse is to the weasel. Her summoning spell gave me the time I needed."

Ember nodded, and popped a couple of the berries into her mouth. They were small, pale, and slightly tart, but there was a pleasant sweetness to them. "Why didn't you tell us? About what you are, I mean."

"Nature takes me as I am, but few people respond favourably to lycanthrope shapeshifters. It is easier to merely let them see how I am on the surface, and only divulge the truth if necessary," he said calmly. "However, something tells me that you are not unfamiliar with this philosophy."

Not lifting her gaze from the berries in the bowl, she picked up another one and put it in her mouth. It seemed to be sourer than the others she'd eaten.

"What you did to Faldorn, to the grove... you should not have been able to do that," he murmured. "And I sense something about you, something that is not quite right. You are not what you seem, perhaps even less so than I am."

Memories of her reception in Trademeet came back to her. _And that was just for being a druid._ "What... what exactly is it you seem to sense?" she asked hesitantly, and looked around; thankfully, nobody was within earshot of them.

"As you know, all of natures' creatures live in some measure of harmony with her. In yours, there is some discord. The difference is slight, but it is there; you do not have quite as much in common with nature as her other creations."

"And if I were to tell you I am... different, what would your reaction be?"

"My duty tells me to be curious; other than that, I am at a loss. I do not believe you are a danger, but I do not know what you are capable of. I... I would know what you are. You can choose not to say, and I suppose it really doesn't matter, but it would ease my mind and further our trust."

"You are right," she finally said. "I shouldn't have been able to do that to her, and I am... I am not fully human." It hurt to say it out loud.

"What are you, then?"

"Have you heard of Alaundo's prophecies, about the children of Bhaal?"

The older druid looked at her. "Yes, I have," he said. "You are one of them?"

She nodded unhappily. "The thing you sense in me is Murder. When I attacked Faldorn, it siphoned life from the grove through her bond. I try to keep it under control, but sometimes... I can't."

"I see," Cernd said, and took a few berries from the bowl. He ate them slowly, one at a time. "You stopped the fight once it touched the grove."

"Yes."

"The tree drops the nut, but it has no say over how it flourishes. There is a difference between who your... father wishes you to be, and who you are. I will only hold you responsible for the latter, and from what I have seen of you, I have no reason to bear you ill will."

"Thank you, Cernd," Ember said, relief flowing through her.

"No, thank you, for trusting me," he said with a smile. "Thank you, also, for helping me reach this place in one piece." He leaned over the side of the treetrunk they sat on, picked something up from the ground, and handed it to her. "I want you to have this."

It was a scimitar. It was perfectly balanced, decorated with ornamental carvings both on the polished wood handle and on the curved blade, and it was enchanted.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Yes, and like a black-tipped falcon, it is also deadly. Use it well," he said, and gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. "I don't envy you the task of balancing your nature, but if you will take the advice of a werewolf: do not shun your darker side. It is a part of you, just like your human side. Finding their balance is not enough; find their harmony, and it might become easier."

"I understand, I think," she said. "And I'll try."

He smiled again and picked up the berry bowl. "Come, my friend, let us join your companions. The night is still young, and these delicacies are too good not to be shared."

A smile spread across her face as well as she followed Cernd to the bonfire.


	22. Chapter 93: A Hero's Welcome

**Chapter 93: A Hero's Welcome**

The following afternoon found the group back in Trademeet, assembled in Lord Coprith's office and waiting quietly while the lord read a letter they'd brought from Cernd. It was a letter of truce; it detailed how Faldorn's actions had created the rift between them, it announced that the problem had been dealt with, it offered gifts of reparation, and it spoke of a desire to mend the gap. Lord Coprith read it slowly and thoroughly; when he finished, he put the letter down on his desk and looked questioningly at Mazzy.

"I vouch for every word, my liege," she said.

The lord glanced at the document in front of him, then looked up at Ember, and smiled. "It would appear we owe you a debt of gratitude! Not only did you return our lady knight to us, but you have also been instrumental in setting things right between us and the forest," he said. "I count you among the Heroes of Trademeet, and you shall be toasted and rewarded tonight!"

"Thank you," Ember said, feeling slightly bewildered. _Heroes of Trademeet? Just for this?_

As they left the Trade Hall a short while later, Ember turned to Mazzy. "All we did was deliver Cernd to the grove," she said. "He did all the actual work. As much as I like not being treated like a criminal anymore, I don't see that what we did deserves this kind of treatment."

"If not for you -"

"And you."

A faint smile crossed the halfling's face. "If not for us, then, Cernd might not have been able to reach the grove. Small as it was, our part in this matter is of almost as great importance as his, and is enough to be recognized in Trademeet. The town has a great tradition of celebrating those it could consider its heroes, and you have just joined those ranks."

"I see what you mean," Yoshimo said, and gestured down a side street that offered a clear view of a fountain in the middle of a town square. Several statues stood around the perimeter of the fountain; most were of humans, but one looked more like an elf, and two were the size of halflings. The feet of each statue were surrounded with fresh flowers and bright memorial ribbons.

"My companions and I," Mazzy said quietly. "The statues were erected last spring, after we brought about the departure of a group of Dao djinn that were ruining trade for the entire town. They had come in pursuit of a rakshasa, and kept all caravans away from Trademeet until it was found. We managed to locate and dispatch the creature; it had killed old Adratha the potions maker, bless her soul, and was masquerading as her. Once we presented evidence of the rakshasa's death to the Dao djinn, they left town, and business could resume. In gratitude, the merchants paid to have us... immortalized, as they put it."

"Boo says you must miss your friends a lot," Minsc said.

"I do," Mazzy said, staring as if transfixed at the fountain. "But at least they rest honourably now; knowing that will make their absence easier to bear." With a sigh, she tore her gaze away from the statues, then turned towards at Ember and the others. "Come, my friends. Let us prepare you for tonight."

-.-.-

That night, Ember and her companions were introduced as Heroes of Trademeet at a great party in the main chamber of the Trade Hall. In front of an assembly of Trademeet's nobles, merchants and guild masters, Lord Coprith held a speech about the renewed bonds of friendship between town and nature and the group's role in making it happen, and presented Ember with several magical items - four pieces of protective jewelry, and a small but powerfully enchanted shield - that the town had gained through dealings with previous Great Druids of the grove. As the group's actions had aided both Trademeet and the grove, it was only fitting that their reward should have ties to both parties, Lord Coprith proclaimed, and the hall rang with applause as Ember accepted the items from him.

After the speech, a throng of finely dressed people gathered around Ember and her companions, offering praises and congratulations and handshakes, and all eager to do so at the same time. A dizzying array of lords, ladies and merchants introduced themselves to Ember with a handful of flattering words; she barely had time to stammer a 'thank you' to each before they moved on and were replaced by another well-wisher. It was as chaotic and confusing as any battle, and it came as a relief when Trademeet's finest began to take more interest in each other and in the large, tidbit-laden tables that stood at either end of the hall, than in Ember. Weaving her way through the everchanging mesh of people that milled around the chamber, she headed towards one of the many benches that lined the walls and sat down with a weary sigh.

"All this attention is a little overwhelming, no?" Yoshimo asked, sitting down beside her.

"A bit, yes," Ember said, letting her head rest in her hands. If she could have had her choice, she'd be resting at their inn right now; the lengthy walk from the grove had been tiresome, and she felt very out of place at this gathering. Granted, she was clean and didn't smell of sweat and swamp water, and the simple grey gown Mazzy had helped her find was finer than anything she'd had to wear since she'd left Baldur's Gate, but with everyone else in the room dripping with more finery than she'd ever seen before, she felt drab and insignificant and nothing like a guest of honour.

She couldn't tell whether or not she actually minded.

 _At least the others seem to be enjoying themselves,_ she mused, looking around the room. Minsc was standing not too far away, munching on what appeared to be a honeyed chicken leg while he showed Boo to a small group of giggling children, and Edwin was talking animatedly with one of the nobles, a man wearing a distinctive suit of ornamental, bright green chainmail under a rich velvet cloak.

Anomen, on the other hand, did not appear to be having a good time. The cleric had been in a bad mood ever since they arrived back in Trademeet, and judging by the dour look on his face as he approached Ember and Yoshimo, his mood had, if anything, worsened.

"Young Anomen! Why so glum on such a festive occasion?" Yoshimo asked.

"I... I do not think it a prudent topic of conversation," Anomen said between clenched teeth. Behind him, someone cheered for Mazzy; a flash of anger passed over the cleric's face.

"This eve," he growled, "more than a dozen different people have thanked me for my role in saving their knight. The lord of this town used the same title in reference to Mistress Fentan; even the Shade Lord himself spoke of her as such! How is such falsehood to be endured?"

"Falsehood, you say?" Yoshimo asked. "What do you mean?"

"I know of no Order that would accept one such as her. How can she allow herself to be spoken of as a knight?"

"Can she really help what her townsfolk call her?" Ember asked, taken aback by the venom in Anomen's voice. "She told us they like celebrating people here, didn't she? Just look at us, the newest Heroes of Trademeet..."

"Aye, perhaps, my lady," Anomen said, sounding not quite as irate, "but you may be in the wrong. And even should you be correct: will it stop at this, or will they one day address her as a paladin?"

If Arvoreen wills it," Mazzy said. The halfling was standing behind Anomen. "Or do you think me not fit for such aspirations due to my parentage? My stature?"

The cleric's face turned red. "There... there has never been a halfling paladin."

"That much is true," Mazzy replied. "I am not likely to ever receive such a calling, and I know very well that no human order would embrace me. These things do not mean that I cannot aspire to live the example; acts of kindness and justice bear equal weight whether they are done by a paladin or by the lowliest beggar."

"And what about truthful conduct?" Anomen snapped.

"You are only a youth, squire, so I shall let your insult melt away," Mazzy said. "I may be no paladin, but I do have the honour and privilege of being a Truesword for my God, and that calling carries more weight than I think you realize. With or without an order, I know what code I am bound to. I know what I am." She turned to walk away, then looked back over her shoulder and added, "I can only hope that you will one day be able to say the same about yourself."

Clenching his fists and looking fit to burst, Anomen stared at the ground, then drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "The sooner we are gone from this wretched place, the better," he muttered. Ember was about to suggest that he go back to the inn and calm down when the main doors to the chamber burst open and a young man rushed in.

"By all the gods, you must help me!" the youth shouted in a panicked voice. "They've taken Raissa!"

Almost instantly, he was surrounded by a clamouring mass of people. "Tiris? We thought you still in Imnesvale!" a woman cried. "What has become of my daughter?!" a man bellowed, forcing his way through the crowd.

Shaking and stammering, Tiris told the story of how he and his betrothed, Raissa, were on their way home from Imnesvale when they were assaulted by two men, who knocked them out and locked them up in a small shack. "They took Raissa away first... I was tied to a chair, and could do nothing to stop them," he moaned. "Later, one of them came for me, or so I thought. He untied me, and I managed to knock him over... I bolted out the door, and heard someone behind me... I... I saw him, I turned and saw him! He was a... a man, or a creature that looked like a man... but he had no skin!" A gasp went up from the crowd.

"All I saw was his... his muscles and sinew!" the youth continued. "He hissed, a dreadful sound, and tried to grab me, but I fled as quickly as I could. I heard it shout behind me, once... it said that it would get me, that it would find me. I didn't stop running until I couldn't hear it any more. What manner of creature could this be?" Tiris asked despairingly. "What kind of magic would create a horror such as this?!"

"Could you show us where the shack is?" Lord Coprith asked.

Tiris nodded. "It's not too far from the Southwest Gate."

"Good, good," the lord said. "Is there anything else you could tell me about them?"

"Um... I think I heard the name of one of the men, when they tok Raissa away. One of them called the other... Rajik, or something like that."

"Could it have been Rejiek?" Ember asked, raising her voice to be heard.

"Yes, that's it! That's his name! How did you know, my lady?"

"It is the name of a murderer that escaped from Athkatla recently."

"Oh... oh, no!" Tiris sobbed. "Raissa..."

Lord Coprith patted the youth's shoulder reassuringly. "Have no fear, lad, it may not be too late. Come, show us to the shack." Turning towards Ember, the lord added, "You are familiar with these villains. Will you assist us?"

"Of course!"

"We will take the bootheel to their evil ways!" Minsc bellowed, and joined the flock of guards that rushed out of the hall, following Tiris's lead.

"(Wonderful. Even more 'heroic' behaviour,)" Edwin grumbled.

"Enough of that, Edwin. Let's go," Ember said, and led the rest of her companions out of the hall, hurrying to keep up with the guards.

She didn't feel the least bit tired anymore.


	23. Chapter 94: Skin Deep

**Chapter 94: Skin Deep**

The shack where Tiris and Raissa had been held offered no clues as to where she might have been taken; it was empty but for two chairs - one of them broken - and a couple lengths of rope. The sparse woodlands around the building were crisscrossed with paths, all of which had been used recently; the light of torches and magelights were not enough to let the trackers discern which tracks were the newest, and the only clear set was on the trail where the skinless man had chased Tiris. Lord Coprith took the only option available to him; he split the assembled crowd into groups, then had them fan out and search every path in the surrounding area.

Ember and her companions headed southeast, following a meandering path that Minsc claimed had been used many, many times lately, even if he couldn't tell by whom. "Acts of righteousness would be so much easier if evil would stain their footprints!" the large ranger proclaimed.

"Or, we could just wait until daylight rather than mill around aimlessly in the dark and trample every clue there ever was!" Edwin grumbled. "(Foolishness prevails around me, as usual.)"

"The girl might not have until daylight," Ember pointed out. Peering into the gloom ahead of them, she saw a flicker of light; it vanished, then reappeared an instant later. "Hey, look!"

"Torchlight, and the bearer is moving towards us," Yoshimo said. "Why not be polite, and go to meet him?"

The torch wielder turned out to be a sallow-faced man in leather armour, with a large sword strapped to his back. "Hold!" the man shouted, reaching for the hilt of his weapon. "I would know what manner of creature you be!"

"We could ask you the same question," Ember replied.

"Ha! Fairly said! You have not attacked me, a lone victim, so it is unlikely that any of you are the creature I seek, anyway. I am Darsidian Moor, and I hunt a creature known as the Skin Dancer."

"And we seek to rescue a woman named Raissa, who was kidnapped by a murderer and a man without skin," Yoshimo said.

Moor frowned. "I do not know of a murderer, but the creature you describe is none other than my quarry. And if he has this woman in his possession, then we must move quickly! I have found several signs of the creature's presence, and I suspect its lair is not far off; if we hurry, we may surprise it yet. Follow me!"

The stranger led the group further along the path, deeper in to the forest, only stopping here and there to talk quietly with Minsc about the tracks the two of them spotted on the way. Before long, they arrived at a clearing with a cottage in the middle. The cottage windows were dark.

"Let us proceed with caution," Darsidian Moor whispered.

The front door of the cottage was locked; Yoshimo carefully picked the lock and pulled the door open. The rest of the group quietly followed him into a spacious room with woven rugs on the clean-swept floor and a large woodpile beside the fireplace. There were vegetables in a basket on the table, fresh water in a pail by the door, and a dark stain on the floor in one corner. Edwin hovered his magelight over the stain; it was dried blood. Ember's heart began to race. Had the skinner been here?

A loud scream came from somewhere just outside the cottage, followed by several thuds and crashes.

"Treachery! Where are they?" Minsc shouted, already running towards the door.

"Where is Darsidian Moor?" Yoshimo asked. The stranger was nowhere in sight.

Around the side of the cottage stood a large shed, sharing one wall with the cottage itself. The door to the shed stood wide open, and a torch lay in the grass just outside, burning fitfully. Darsidian Moor stood in the middle of the shed, his sword raised and covered with blood. Two bodies lay on the floor, and a young woman with brown curls sat huddled in a corner, shivering.

"You have come!" Moor panted. "I decided to check around the house... The creature was about to kill the maiden, here, and I was forced to intervene."

One of the bodies was easily recognizable to Ember. "That's Rejiek Hidesman!"

"And that appears to be his wizard accomplice," Yoshimo said. The wizard was dead; a large cut almost bisected his torso. His eyes were already glassy, and his face seemed oddly puffy and yellowish, almost as if he had some kind of disease.

"That one is the Skin Dancer," Moor said. "His human companion is still alive. We must kill him now, while we have the chance!"

"Yes! Kill him, please!" the woman pleaded in a hoarse, raspy voice as Minsc helped her to her feet. She looked pale and unwell, with deep shadows under her eyes.

"He appears incapacitated." Anomen said. "We should take advantage of this, and bring him before the authorities."

"Do not stall!" Moor cried. "You must kill him before he rises! I do not know how powerful he truly is!"

"You did not even know he had a part in this. Have you ascertained, then, in these few moments, that there are no others involved in their foul actions? Nay, he must be questioned ere his sentencing!"

There was something very wrong about the whole situation, Ember decided. She did not like Moor. She did not like how he'd shown up out of nowhere, she did not like how neatly he'd guided them to this place; she didn't even like the apparent ease with which he'd killed the skin dancer. _And the girl wasn't even gagged. Why didn't we hear a sound out of her as we approached?_

On the floor, Rejiek Hidesman stirred and murmured something incoherent.

His voice was that of a young girl's.

No longer quaking and shivering, the woman shoved Minsc aside and grabbed an axe that hung on the wall. "Fool!" she shouted at Moor, her voice far deeper than before. "I knew your plan was doomed to failure! I should never have gone along with it!"

" **You're** Rejiek Hidesman!" Ember shouted.

The tanner raised the axe and swung it at Ember. She dodged away and raised her borrowed staff to block the blow, then jabbed at his waist. Moor's voice rose in a chant that sounded uncomfortably like a horror spell; Anomen shouted a few words, and a strange calm fell over Ember. Moor's spell struck her moments later, but instead of sending her senses reeling with terror, the spell washed over her, doing no worse than sending a shiver down her spine before it dissipated.

Bolts of energy flew through the room, slamming Moor sideways into the wall. Yoshimo moved silently along the wall behind the tanner, who was flailing wildly with the axe and snarling like a feral beast.

"Justice has found you, evil skin stealers!" Minsc roared. "Come, Boo, we go for the eyes!" He brought his blade down on Darsidian Moor's neck just as Yoshimo stabbed the tanner. The skinner murderer of Athkatla and his accomplice fell dead to the floor, still in skins that were not their own.

"I have never met with more dishonourable foes," Yoshimo said, looking down at the dead tanner with disgust.

On the floor beside Ember, the girl in the tanner's skin sobbed loudly. "Oh gods, help me," she wailed, and crawled towards the dead tanner. Reaching around the tanner's neck, the girl began to pull her own skin free from the body.

"Look away," Ember told the others, and stared stiffly at the doorway. "Raissa, what have they done to you?"

"They turned me into one of them!" the girl cried. "He took my skin like it was some kind of coat, and made me put his on... Ahhh, I c-cannot believe I am doing this!" The strange, unpleasant sounds of skin being pulled and stretched ceased. "I... I have my own skin back, but it's not me anymore! I... I..." She screamed.

Ember turned back towards Raissa. She sat on the floor, hugging her legs; her skin had a yellowish hue and looked vaguely rumpled. It was no more a part of her than any garment would have been.

"Minsc is confused, and so is Boo," Minsc said meekly. "We gave evil a swift buttkicking, but it wasn't hard enough. How do we kick it out of this little girl?"

Anomen kneeled beside the girl and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. "Surely there must be something we can do for you?"

"What can be done?! I can feel that magic, that evil, growing inside of me! I can't live like this!" She stared at the cleric and grabbed the collar of his tunic. "I can't!"

"You will not," Anomen said in an odd, quiet tone. "I... I will help you."

The girl sank back on her knees, tears streaming down her face. Anomen placed a hand on her chest, drew a deep breath, and started to pray.

It was a prayer unlike any Ember had ever heard before. Healing ran through it, but there was more; something deeply bonded to life itself, to growth and restoration, was echoed in the cleric's hurried, desperate chanting. A faint, white glow began to build around the girl, swirling around her limbs like some ethereal mist as Anomen chanted. Nobody moved.

The white mist brightened and flooded into Raissa. The girl gasped. Her skin smoothed out, losing its folds and wrinkles and yellowish pallor, and regained a healthy, pink glow.

Anomen crumpled to the floor.

-.-.-

The sun was high in the sky before the cleric stirred.

"Good morning," Ember said, standing up from a chair by the window. It was a beautiful day outside, and sitting there had let her enjoy the gentle breeze while she waited for him to awaken.

"My lady! Er... good morning," Anomen said, blinking his eyes to clear them. There were large, dark circles under them, but his face was nowhere near as pale and haggard as it'd looked the night before, when Minsc had all but carried him back to the inn. "Have you been here long?"

"Since around sunrise. The Waukeenar high priest told me to let you sleep as long as you needed to, after a spell like that. He said Helm would understand."

Anomen slowly nodded, but still looked unhappy about having missed his morning prayers. "The young maiden... how does she fare?"

"She is alive and well, thanks to you," she smiled, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It seems that the tanner and the wizard planned on taking the identities of the young couple, so that they could stage their own deaths and escape for good. When Tiris escaped, they were forced to improvise. They murdered the owner of that cottage and stuffed him inside the wizard's skin - that's why that body looked so odd - and the wizard then pretended to be hunting himself, in order to find someone to witness their fake deaths."

"The wickedness of men never ceases to amaze me," Anomen said, shaking his head in disgust.

"It was a brave thing, what you did for Raissa. Restoring her like that... I've never seen anything like it."

A faint blush rose in the cleric's cheeks. "You are too kind, my lady. Truth be told, I was far from certain that my skills would be enough to let Helm grant me such a prayer; nevertheless, I was compelled to make the attempt. She... she reminded me of my sister, Moira. They are of the same age, and have similar countenances. I looked upon the stricken maiden, and saw my sister in her stead. It... it was not to be endured. I had to do something."

"You love your sister very much, from the sound of it."

"Aye, very much indeed. She is the one thing of my family that I miss. I would gladly take her away from our father's house, but even had I the means to do so, I know she would refuse to leave."

"Oh?"

"She stays to take care of him, even at his worst, and will not hear otherwise. Moira, you must understand, can be very stubborn," he said with a small, sad laugh, then fell silent. "Where are our comrades this morning?" he asked.

"Minsc is being fitted for some leather armour, and Yoshimo's gone with him. Edwin is... I think he said something about spell vendors," she said. "Speaking of companions... there is something I have to ask you."

"Yes, my lady?"

"I spoke with Mazzy last night. She's offered to help with Imoen's rescue, at least for a while, but she doesn't want her presence to cause you discomfort."

"Indeed," Anomen murmured. He looked embarrassed.

"Will it?"

He looked out the window, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "I cannot lie to you, my lady," he eventually said. "However, I would not have my sentiments hamper your quest. She is a skilled warrior, and... and she is righteous, in her own way. If I can work with the Thayvian, how could I not work with her? I will not cause dissent."

"I am glad to hear that. Thank you, Anomen." Ember stood up and moved towards the door. "I'll have some food sent up, and then you should get some more rest."

"As you wish."

"And when you feel fully recovered, you can come with me to talk with Raissa's father. You see, he's the blacksmith guildmaster, and once you're well enough for it, he wants to fit you for a suit of plate mail."

The cleric's face was an image of astonishment. "Plate mail?"

"Yes. As thanks for for saving his daughter." She couldn't keep from grinning any longer. "I think it's enchanted, too."

"This... this is... By Helm!"

"You've truly earned it," she said with a smile, and left the room.


	24. Chapter 95: Education

**Chapter 95: Education**

It was hard to imagine sparring partners more mismatched than Mazzy and Minsc. The blade of his sword was easily as long as her entire body, and she couldn't strike at his torso without jumping, yet here they were, circling each other with drawn blades in an eerie dance in a roadside clearing. The halfling easily dodged Minsc's heavy blows, and the ranger's large reach kept Mazzy from getting near enough to strike him, but slowly, surely, one or the other kept finding a way to get just a little closer to a true hit.

"It's very strange to watch, isn't it?" Ember said to Yoshimo as they ended their sparring round. Her new scimitar was starting to rest comfortably in her hand; even though her reflexes still hadn't forgotten the many swordfighting techniques that just didn't work with a curved blade, it was getting steadily easier to resist the urge to stab the blade at her opponent. All in all, she had to consider the evening as time well spent; Mazzy claimed this particular clearing was the best campsite for miles, and with a new weapon to get used to, the extra sparring time was more worth to Ember than the scant distance they could have walked in the last hour of daylight.

"A most curious sight, indeed," the Kara-Turan replied, wiping his katana with a silk cloth, "but they will both learn much from sparring with someone so unlike themselves, no?"

Ember watched as Mazzy aimed a mock blow at Minsc's calves - a blow that would have hobbled the giant, had it landed - and nodded. "I imagine they will."

"Are you ready for the shield, my lady?" Anomen asked.

"I suppose so," she replied, and headed towards the campfire. Edwin sat there, watching over both the fire and the rabbit stew that bubbled in a pot over it, but also, as usual, deeply engrossed in a pile of scrolls; he didn't as much as look up as she retrieved the Shield of Harmony from a sack. The whole thing was Anomen's idea; she'd offered the shield to him back in Trademeet, but he'd said it was too small and light for his preferences. Instead, he'd suggested that it would make an excellent complement to her new scimitar, and had offered to teach her how to use it. She'd agreed to give it a try.

Her first lesson started with adjusting the shield; there was a broad leather strap on the back which would go around her lower arm, and Anomen helped her tighten it just enough to fit comfortably. "If the shield is fitted just so, the weight of it will not be able to shift around your arm, yet it will not impede your movement," he explained. "Ideally, the shield should feel like an extension of your arm."

"It feels lighter than I expected," she said, moving her arm experimentally. It felt a bit strange, but as long as she held the handgrip and didn't just let the shield hang from the leather strap, it wasn't too bad.

"Having the weight distributed properly, as it is now, further eases the burden of even the lightest of shields," he said with a smile. "Now, if you will allow me..."

He proceeded to show her how to change her combat stances to benefit from the shield, as well as some simple blocking moves. It wasn't just a matter of learning how to move and balance herself with a shield; her shield arm was no longer just a counterweight to her sword arm, and she had to teach her body to be aware of its new defensive abilities.

"Now, let us try some gentle sparring," he said after a while. "Try to block my attacks with the shield."

Assuming a battle stance, she waited for him to strike at her with his war hammer. Her first instinct was to retaliate, her second to dodge; she suppressed both, and raised her shield to block the attack. The hammer caught the shield at a slightly awkward angle, and a numbing jolt shot up her arm. Wincing, she let go of the shield's handgrip, flexed her fingers and returned them to the grip.

"Again," she said.

She caught the next few blows better, and the impact of them felt far less jarring than the first. Readjusting her balance was proving to be a bit tricky, but the shield itself barely weighed as much as her scimitar, and her arm didn't really feel burdened by the weight at all.

"Recall how you defend yourself with a staff, and see if you cannot utilize that knowledge."

She nodded, and tightened her grip on the shield. When the next blow came, she swayed slightly out of the way, then brought the shield up to meet it, somewhat like she would have done if she'd had her staff in her hand. Anomen's war hammer was deflected away from her, and her arm, more ready for the force of the impact this time, barely felt jolted at all.

"Well done!" Anomen cried, visibly pleased. "Let us end this session, my lady; you have had quite enough for a beginner. How do you feel about using the shield?"

"It does feel a bit odd, but I think I could get used to it."

"I am glad to hear it. If you should become accustomed to using this shield, it could prove a significant increase in your defensive capabilities, and the magical protection it offers is quite invaluable."

She glanced down at the shield. Deceptively light and slender as it was, it was far stronger and more resilient than unenchanted steel, and the spells woven in it would protect her from most mind-controlling magics. He was right; it was invaluable. "If only it'd protect me from horror spells, too," she said with a small grin, "then it'd be fairly perfect."

"Aye, indeed, but I should be able to compensate for that gap in its abilities..." The cleric's smile faltered. "At least, I shall endeavour to do so. In Trademeet, I was fortunate enough to counter the skin dancer's spell in time, but I was almost too late. I should have cast my counterspell sooner; preemptively, even."

"Well, having been struck by such spells on more than one occasion, I'm glad you were there to cast it at all," Ember said, pulling the shield off her arm. "Do you think it'd be possible for me to learn how to cast that?"

"In truth, I could not say. I do not know, or indeed understand, how your goddess chooses to bestow her gifts. All I can do is tell you what I know of the spell's workings, and suggest that you beseech her for it. The rest is in her hands." Anomen put his own weapons down, and extended a hand to her. "Come now, my lady. Let us see if our supper is finished, or if the wizard has left it to burn in the pot."

-.-.-

Around sunset, a group of gypsies arrived to spend the night in the clearing. They arranged their three brightly decorated wagons in a semicircle at the edge of the clearing, lit two large campfires, and introduced themselves with a song, a dance, and spiced cakes. The group consisted of two families, linked through marriage, who were on their way north to trade goods and perform at summer fairs and carnivals on the sword coast. Their winter home was in the forest of Tethyr; as they all sat around one of the campfires, Mastav, the head of one of the two families, told Ember and her companions about how the recent druid troubles had affected them.

"We were forced to flee from the deep forests by the attacks of wild animals. My brother was... killed... most horribly by a pack of wolves, as were others. We went to Trademeet for refuge, and were greeted with accusations," he said. "But now that the attacks from the animals have stopped, we are safe, and when the leaves fall, we will return to our forests again. We thank you for this, our friends. You who are heroes in this place will always be welcome in our tent!" Mastav raised a goblet of wine, and the gypsies all cheered.

"Thank you," Ember said, blushing happily.

More cake and wine was fetched from one of the wagons, and conversations flowed freely as the treats were passed around the campfire. Only one of the gypsies was quiet; Kveroslava, Mastav's wife, a woman with greying hair and a gentle face who watched with a smile as her oldest son asked about adventuring and large cities, and her youngest son asked why Minsc was so big and Mazzy so little. Only when the campfires started to die down, and her friends and family retired by ones and twos to their wagons, did she speak.

"If you wish," she said, "I can tell you something of your place in the future. Do any of you desire the benefit of my gift?"

"Can you tell Minsc where he will find his witch?!"

"Come and sit beside me, good man, and I shall tell you what I can see."

Minsc obediently sat down beside the gypsy, and let her take his hand. "Close your eyes, and let Kveroslava feel your aura... Your future is unclear, ranger," she said, cradling his giant hand in her palms. "You are a gentle man with a will of iron. A goddess fondly looks down on you. Continue your fight against evil... it shall serve you well."

"Oooh! This is most goodness of news, is it not, Boo?!" With a happy grin, Minsc gave Kveroslava a crushing hug, then returned to his seat.

Ember watched as most of her companions - Yoshimo gracefully declined - placed their hands in the gypsy's and let her do her reading. In Mazzy, she saw what she called a rare bond to the halfling's god, and advised her to continue to cherish virtue and honour; Mazzy thanked her for her well-spoken words, and sat down to contemplate them. In Edwin, she saw a bitter man, lusting for power; he was advised to guard against the unknown and mark his friends, for they, not his allies, would save him in the end. The wizard was less than pleased, and complained loudly about useless premonitions and unshaped talent. When it was Anomen's turn, the cleric eagerly offered her his hand; in him, she saw conflict. "Soon you shall stand on a precipice," she told him, "to overcome, or be lost in darkness forever."

Anomen pulled his hand back as if stung. "I... see nothing of myself in your words, woman. A waste of my time and nothing more," he muttered.

The gypsy's gaze locked on Ember. "And you, friend?"

Ember looked into the woman's gentle eyes. Minsc and Mazzy's predictions had been vague enough, but Edwin's had seemed more specific, not to mention Anomen's prediction. Was it his test for knighthood the woman had seen?

Even though Kveroslava had seen nothing about Imoen in Minsc, Ember couldn't help but wonder what the gypsy might see in herself. Was there even the slightest chance that she might be able to see something pertaining to Imoen? Was that chance worth whatever reaction Kveroslava might have to her blood?

"I don't know," she said. "I am curious, but... I tend not to do well with fortune tellers. Or them with me, rather."

"Kveroslava understands! Do not worry, child. I cannot see far, and I am not afraid."

She couldn't let the chance go by.

"Just... don't look too far," Ember pleaded, and placed her hand in Kveroslava's.

Kveroslava smiled as she stroked Ember's palm, following the furrows and lines with her fingertips. "You are a strong woman," the gypsy said quietly. "You have powerful blood and a... a destiny that shines so brightly. But you are not alone... there is another. Another who calls to you for help..."

 _Imoen!_

"I see a man," Kveroslava continued, her voice rising and her fingernails digging into Ember's palm, "a dark man whose life has been taken from him... I see this other... she screams! She screams! There is a beast... a beast of terrible power! And... a dark man... the Exile. He smiles! He smiles! I... I... NO! No more!" She let go of Ember and slumped forwards, breathing raggedly as she supported her head with her hands.

"I'm sorry," Ember whispered as she stood up, tears filling her eyes. She should have known better than to go near a fortune teller ever again; her reading had gone better, and far, far worse, than she'd feared.

"Minsc remembers little Imoen screaming," Minsc said meekly, wiping his own eyes. "I couldn't help her..."

"That could be the past, couldn't it?!" Edwin asked frantically. "Say it was the past!"

"I c-cannot say. Please forgive me, good woman," Kveroslava said, giving Ember a look of pity. "Your path has overwhelmed my limited gifts. I wish you... good fortune."

Ember didn't reply. Wordlessly, she stumbled away from the campfire.

-.-.-

"My lady?"

"Yes?"

"Is there anything I -"

"Can you get me eight and a half thousand gold pieces?"

"...This instant? Alas, I cannot."

"We need to finish this as soon as possible. And once we pay those ghouls their ransom money... we have to be prepared to fight."

"I understand."

"Do you? Because if Kveroslava's vision was true, I don't think the Cowlies will be the main obstacle in the end."

"You speak of your captor."

"He's held in the same place as Immy. And even Edwin would have to admit he's extremely powerful. It'd be nice to think she just saw our past, back in his dungeon, but..."

"You fear the Cowled Wizards may not be able to hold him."

"Exactly."

"He is not invincible; he cannot be. Rest assured: we shall reclaim your friend."

"Thank you, Anomen. It... it helps to hear that." She turned, then, and looked at him. In the flickering light of his torch, her countenance was calm, serious, perhaps even stern; it belied the story told by her red-rimmed eyes. "You know, there is one thing you could do for me, after all."

"Aye, my lady?"

"Tell me how you remove fear."


	25. Chapter 96: Hunt for the Nether Scroll

**Chapter 96: The Hunt for the Nether Scroll**

It was perfect.

Edwin's great breakthrough came in Trademeet, when he recognized the crest on a noble's cloak pin as one described in a report about Nevaziah, the last known keeper of the Nether Scroll (an incredible stroke of luck, even more so because he and his impeccable mind were there to seize the opportunity). The noble, a reasonably tolerable cretin named Skarmaen Alibakkar, was extremely receptive to compliments about his suit of elven chainmail (crudely, and obviously, reworked to fit around his very un-elven belly), his ornate cloak pin, and, most insincerely of all, about how he must be a beacon of style and elegance among his peers.

He was also extremely receptive to wine.

It took Edwin less than fifteen minutes to get Alibakkar to tell him all about how the cloak pin bore his family crest, how his family was older than Trademeet, and, indeed, how his family had founded Trademeet, and in another five minutes, Edwin managed to confirm that he was a descendant of the wizard Nevaziah. To Edwin's amusement, the noble was actually embarrassed about being related to someone who was obviously far better than himself (but inferior to Edwin Odesseiron, of course); the name of the wizard was now nothing but an unpleasant reminder of the disgrace he'd caused the family.

According to Alibakkar, Nevaziah the wizard went insane and had himself buried alive.

Along with all his work.

In Athkatla.

It had been hard to mask the excitement Edwin felt at that moment, but he managed to stay calm (Calm, Edwin!) as Alibakkar spoke of how Nevaziah had humiliated the family further by haunting the family tomb. Utterly disgusting, it was; yes, Edwin most certainly agreed. Edwin also wondered what had been done about the problem. What, nothing? The family had decided to move and just let the ghost rot? Yes, it was a solution, but wouldn't Alibakkar feel better knowing that Nevaziah was completely gone? He would? Edwin would be happy to help with that. Yes, Edwin was a good friend.

And so, Edwin returned to Athkatla knowing exactly which tomb to visit, and how to enter it. It was perfect, utterly perfect!

Or it would be, if only the others would understand the urgency and importance of this task.

Yoshimo agreed to come along easily enough, but the rest of the group... Edwin could understand, he supposed, that Ember would rather spend her time searching for employment than 'paw through a tomb in search for a scroll that probably rotted a long time ago' (after all, she wasn't even remotely capable of appreciating the importance of the Nether Scroll), and he couldn't say he minded that the Rasheman brute and the insufferable halfling also refused, but Edwin Odesseiron was no fool, and would not take no for an answer from the party cleric. The pompous oaf of a Helmite did, after all, have his uses when it came to dealing with the undead, and Edwin should not have had to point out to him that he would be at least marginally useful if he came along to the tomb rather than following Ember and the halfling around on their job hunt, which they were just as capable of doing on their own (even if they were dragging the giant imbecile around with them). As it was, the cleric didn't relent until Edwin said some drivel about how it was his duty to assist with this task that had been assigned them, and even then he agreed only very begrudgingly. Incomprehending fools, all of them!

Imoen would have understood.

 _(She screams! She screams!)_

With a shudder, Edwin shut his eyes and forced the words of that damned gypsy from his head. Random blatherings from a fraud, that's all they were!

(But what if they weren't?)

No. No more thoughts!

He'd show them. He'd find her, and rescue her. He'd claim the Nether Scroll, and once he'd harnessed the power contained within it, he would be unstoppable. He'd be invincible! He'd make the Cowled Wizards bow before him; he'd tear their prison apart and burn it to the ground for their daring to hold Imoen in it! Oh yes, he'd have his glory and his revenge, and maybe even Imoen's gratitude (would she realize, at last, what a fool she'd been to turn him down?)...

"Is this it?"

Yoshimo's voice jolted Edwin out of his reverie. "What?!" he all but shouted.

"Here," Yoshimo said, pointing at one of the tombs in front of them; while Edwin had been... preoccupied with more important matters, they had evidently reached the oldest part of the main Athkatla graveyard. The tomb in question was worn by time and crowded by newer constructions, but it was still easily identifiable as their goal; there was, after all, a shortage of Mulhorandi-style pyramidal tombs in Athkatla. "This is it, yes?"

Edwin gave the Kara-Turan a withering glare. "What do you think?"

Behind them, the cleric sighed. "I think you should do what you must, wizard, that we may dispense with this matter as quickly as possible."

"(I don't care what you think,)" Edwin grumbled, and set about casting the spell that would unlock the wards on the tomb entrance.

-.-.-

The inner chamber of Nevaziah's section of the tomb lay deep underground, at the end of a twisting and turning corridor that was populated by several shadows; Edwin left their disposal to the Helmite. While the Kara-Turan checked the path for traps, Edwin busied himself with examining the decor of the tomb. Nevaziah appeared to have been overly fond of pottery; the place was littered with urns, jars and bowls from a number of cultures, including a Thayvian jar with a glazed spiral design that had gone out of fashion several hundred years ago. It might have some value as an antique, Edwin mused, then remembered his situation and decided it was better (yes, much better) to dismiss it as a piece of tacky garbage.

"Well, here we are," Yoshimo said. "The inner chamber."

Other than a few more urns, the chamber was empty. There was not as much as a coffin, much less the vaunted ghost and his work.

How could this be?!

"This is a pointless undertaking, wizard, even for you," the cleric complained. "There is naught to be found here but shadows!"

"Perhaps not," Yoshimo said, kneeling in the corner. He pushed something, and a section of the wall slid open with the loud, grating sound of stone against stone, whirling up a cloud of dust. Excitedly, Edwin peered through the dust and into a second chamber. It was larger than the room they stood in, but at first glance, all he could see was more of the incessant jars and urns. Then, he saw the shelves, full of dust-covered scrolls. "This is it!" he cried, exultant.

Something stirred in the chamber.

A tall, gangly figure shambled towards them. Its skin, which looked like old parchment, didn't quite cover its skeleton, and its body was draped in tattered, mouldy rags that looked as if they might have once been green and gold silk, but not even Edwin could tell for sure anymore. Dust and fragments of rotten silk fell away from the creature with every movement.

It was a lich.

"Helm preserve us," the cleric whispered.

"Haaaaaa... it... it cannot be!" the lich rasped. "Have... the cowled ones... come for me...? Have I been... found out... after so long?"

Yoshimo stepped forward. "We are no Cowled Wizards, if that is what you are concerned about," he said carefully.

"You... you are not of the Cowled Ones? That is... that is good. They... found me out... my pupils and I... practicing the arts... without their permission. We... we fled... so long ago... How... long now? I... I cannot remember. Have you... come to... destroy me?"

"We mean you no harm, my good lich," the Kara-Turan said. Edwin rolled his eyes.

"Lich? Lich? Is... is this what I am? No... no... was I dying?" the lich muttered, sounding bewildered. "I **was** dying, so long ago... I used the... magic to save myself. Just as... as I have used it... to save my pupils... How... how long have my pupils... and I... been below? Do the... wizards still... hunt me? Is the... name of... Nevaziah still spoken in the world above?"

Edwin had to restrain himself from shouting with glee at the lich's mention of his name.

"No," Yoshimo said, "I don't think they remember you any longer."

"I... I have been forgotten? The name of... Nevaziah... Keeper of Wisdom... has been lost to the sands of time? It... it is as if I have been... in a dream... My... my duty... is long gone. I... I am dead, am I not? And... and all my pupils... as well. Oh... how long has it been? Hiding... hiding... in fear... for centuries!" A cackling sound that was probably supposed to be laughter escaped the lich's mouth. "Thank you... for opening my eyes. The Keepers never came... to collect the wisdom... my pupils and I... have saved. They... they are long dead."

Edwin's patience ran out.

"Enough of this prattle!" he cried. "I wish the Nether Scroll, you senile lich! Give it to me at once!"

Someone - the cleric - put a hand on Edwin's arm; he shrugged it off.

"The... Nether Scroll? I... I have this... most sacred scroll..." Nevaziah said, glancing towards one of the shelves. "It is... most dangerous wisdom. Others must be... protected from it... lest they be destroyed. I... I have used its power... sparingly... but... perhaps not sparingly enough. What... what makes you think... wizard... that you are strong enough for it? It... it must be destroyed... with the other knowledge..."

Destroyed?!

"No! NO! I will not allow you to destroy such an invaluable artifact!" Edwin shouted. "You are a fool, lich! And I will have the scroll if I must destroy you, first!"

The lich snarled (not that he really had any lips fit to snarl with). "It is... it is you who... are the fool... wizard! I... I am the Keeper of Wisdom... and I say... you shall not have it! This place will be your tomb!"

"Excellent work," the Helmite growled behind Edwin as the lich began summoning an orb of fire.

-.-.-

"The halfling was right about you, wizard," the cleric said as they stood outside the tomb, gasping for breath. Puffs of white smoke drifted out of the entrance; the scrolls within were still burning. "You have naught but disdain for the safety of your companions!"

"I told you the tomb was haunted, didn't I?" Edwin said distractedly, cradling the few salvaged scrolls in his arms. Yoshimo had shown a quite admirable presence of mind when he darted behind the lich to grab the documents moments before the lich's spells set the entire tomb - himself included - ablaze. (Really, what kind of Keeper of Wisdom would rather set his work on fire than pass it on to a worthier being?)

"Haunted, aye," the cleric said with a harsh laugh. "You sent us against a lich!"

"A lich? Barely," Edwin scoffed. "He was weak, untrained, and insane. (Give me a few centuries, and I'd do vastly better!)"

"He nearly burned us all alive!"

"Details, details," Edwin muttered, and returned his attention to the precious burden he carried in his hands. It was true that a lich (even an unskilled one) was a bit more than he'd expected to find, and it was true that they'd been dangerously close to incineration, but none of that mattered now.

The sigil on one of the salvaged scrolls didn't lie.

The Nether Scroll was finally his!


	26. Chapter 97: Maid of Misfortune

**Chapter 97: Maid of Misfortune**

In the days that followed Edwin's excursion to the graveyard, Ember and her companions learned of several unsettling changes in Athkatla.

Rumour spoke of a war brewing between the Shadow Thieves and a rival guild. Thugs moved in the streets in greater numbers than before, and known thieves kept turning up dead; sometimes, their bodies were completely drained of blood. Strange people were seen in the streets at night; pale and sickly looking, they'd disappear in the mists as if by magic. In addition to all this, a number of priests had vanished without a trace, including at least one of Anomen's acquaintances from the temple of Helm.

And on the fourth day after the group's return to the city, a lynch mob assembled near the Copper Coronet.

Hearing angry shouts from outside, Ember looked out of an open window from the upper floor of the inn. Below, a group of men were parading a bound and gagged woman down the street, and a dozen or so onlookers followed in their wake, all of them clamoring to burn the woman. A man in a crimson robe at the front shouted louder than everyone else, bidding one and all to come witness the destruction of the foulest of evils.

"It seems a dark elf has been caught and is about to be put to the torch," Anomen murmured, looking over Ember's shoulder.

"They... they will not burn the pretty elf?" Minsc said, aghast.

"I doubt such a fate is any less than the fiend deserves," Anomen said dismissively.

"Is it?" Ember asked. The spectacle outside was an uncomfortable reminder of what might have happened to Cernd or herself in Trademeet.

"In my experience, no good has ever come from public lynchings. Too often, the instigators are misguided... as you all witnessed in my home town," Mazzy said, mirroring Ember's thoughts. "She may be drow, but even she has the right to have her guilt determined by a court of law, not by a frenzied, bloodthirsty gang."

"Unless I am mistaken," Yoshimo said, "they are being led by clerics of Beshaba."

Ember stepped away from the window and picked up her scimitar. "Somehow, I don't really see Beshabans acting as champions of justice. Let's go find out what they're up to."

-.-.-

Edwin refused to budge from his studies of the Nether Scroll, but the rest of Ember's companions followed her, and they caught up with the lynch mob in a small market square, not too far from the inn; the mob had tied the drow woman to a stake and stood in a circle around her, jeering. To her surprise, Ember recognized the drow as the Sharran priestess she and her friends had rescued from bandits a year ago. _She's in deeper trouble this time, though._ Fear and anger was plainly visible in the drow's dark red eyes.

"Look ye all upon this foul drow that we have bound before ye!" the man in the crimson robe shouted. "A creature of evil and darkness, my brethren! A creature of foulness and deceit, bent only on our destruction! This creature has foolishly come amongst us, thinking that we would be lax in our senses! Tell me what should be done with it!"

"Burn it!"

"Burn her!"

"Burn the drow!"

"Then the drow shall burn! " the robed man cried. "Gather 'round, my brethren, and witness the will of Beshaba triumph over foul evil!"

Elbowing her way through the throng of people, Ember approached the robed man. "What has this drow done?" she asked. "What crime is she accused of?"

The robed man gave her an incredulous glare. "What crime? Look on her, fool! Her skin is black with the stain of her foul soul! She is a drow, and the drow deserve no mercy! Stand aside and watch... or join us, if you wish! Either way, justice will be done!"

"This is not justice!" Minsc bellowed. "There must be no burning if there has been no crime! Boo demands that you release her at once!"

"Never!" a man in a black cloak and crimson tunic cried, raising a lit torch. "The foul creature is receiving only the just punishment that all her kind deserve! The darkness in her soul will be burned clean, it will!"

The crowd cheered.

"You will not burn her!" Minsc roared. He snatched the torch from the man's grasp and extinguished it with one giant palm, and a stunned gasp went up from the crowd. Ember winced; it was an effective gesture, but even if Minsc didn't notice right away, his hand would almost certainly need attending later.

"How dare ye interfere with the judgement of Beshaba?!" the robed man cried. "Her will must be shown to the people!"

"The drow is free!" someone screamed. Ember turned to see the Sharran priestess standing beside the stake, unbound and ungagged, Mazzy and Anomen beside her with their weapons drawn, and Yoshimo behind her with a small dagger in one hand and the remnants of the drow's gag in the other. The drow shouted a few words of command, and while the robed man merely shuddered, his accomplice collapsed in a stupor. The crowd erupted in a panic as the people who lusted for drow blood a few moments ago suddenly became fearful for their own, and amidst screams, shouts, and sobs, they fled the square.

The robed man glared at Ember, scowling and sputtering with rage. She drew her scimitar from its scabbard, and gave him a questioning look. He stared at her as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "You... you... **you!** Beshaba provides!" he shrieked, and ran away.

Meanwhile, the drow priestess had taken advantage of the chaos around her. While those around her fled in terror, she'd snatched the black cloak from the back of the unconscious man; Ember spotted the woman as she wrapped herself in the cloak, concealing her face and hands. Unnoticed by everyone but Ember, the Sharran moved towards a dark, narrow alley. She glanced warily around before entering it, and for a moment, her eyes met Ember's. Pushing the hood of her cloak back just enough to show her face, the drow gazed proudly at Ember and gave her a slight nod of acknowledgment, possibly even gratitude; then, she pulled the hood over her face again and disappeared into the shadowed alley.

"Excellent work, friend Minsc," Yoshimo said as the square emptied. "I could not have asked for a better diversion." The giant ranger beamed with pride.

"May I see your hand, Minsc?" Mazzy asked. He obediently held out his hand to the halfling, who checked it thoroughly; thankfully, the skin of his palms was too thick to be easily burned, and other than some soot and the lingering scent of burnt hair, he had little to show for what he had done other than a faint redness.

"I had not thought the drow could be so... striking," Anomen said thoughtfully.

"I thought it was common knowledge that drow women are stunning to look upon," Ember said, a bit more testily than she'd intended, but Anomen didn't seem to notice.

"Aye, it is a known fact, but I have never before witnessed the truth of it," he said. "As I always heard it, they are beautiful creatures, but utterly devoid of compassion. One can only wonder what evils might lurk behind such a fair visage."

"What I can tell you is that this particular visage belongs to a priestess of Shar."

"Indeed?"

"Minsc and I have encountered her before," Ember started to explain, but was interrupted by the sound of slow, theatrical clapping. A man dressed in a bright red cloak with gold accents stood at the edge of the square, applauding them.

"Well done!" the man called out. "You are an adventuring group, are you not?"

"Adventurers? Yes!" Minsc cried. "Adventurers and heroes and champions of goodness, that is what we are!"

"In other words: yes, we are an adventuring group," Ember said with a smile.

"And you can handle more than these ragtag fanatics?"

"We are most capable, sir," Mazzy said.

"If there is anything that Yoshimo and his allies cannot handle," the Kara-Turan grinned, "we have not found it yet!"

"Good, good," the man said. He smiled, showing a lot of teeth. "I have an offer for you. If you are interested, follow me to the Copper Coronet; I do not care to discuss my business on the street."

The man left, and after exchanging a few shrugs and glances, the group followed him, leaving the square just as the man in the crimson tunic started to wake up.

-.-.-

A short while later, as Ember and her companions seated themselves around a table in the least noisy corner of the Copper Coronet, the man in the bright red cloak presented his offer.

"I am called Lord Jierdan Firkraag," the man said, "and I am the ruler of a community outside Athkatla, in the Windspear Hills. While I provide for my people as best that I can, there are some things I cannot do. Battle is not my strong point."

"One should always leave heroing to heroes! That's what Boo says."

"Quite," Lord Firkraag said, sounding a bit annoyed at the interruption. "There are marauders in my lands, and I need a firm hand to push them back. I offer a grand sum - four thousand gold - if you can free my land of their scourge. It is a fortune, you will agree."

"Four thousand? That is an astounding sum for simple bandit hunting," Mazzy said.

"But these marauders of yours aren't simple bandits, are they?" Ember asked.

"No. We are not talking about common scum here. We are talking about werewolves," the lord said. "A pack of them has taken a liking to my countryside. I will not stand for it. A few thousand is a small price for safety, and I believe in paying for quality. You will be wealthy in my service, rest assured."

"We need a few minutes to confer," Ember said.

"Take all the time you need," Lord Firkraag said, and headed towards the bar.

Ember looked around at her friends. "What do you think?"

"Well... I've heard of this Lord Jierdan, if it's any help," Yoshimo said. "He has the coin to back up his offer. He's not reputed to be the nicest noble in Amn, but then who is?"

"There is something unsavoury about him," Anomen said, "but the salary he offers would lessen the distance to our goal considerably."

"And we should be able to handle a pack of werewolves," Ember said. _Six of us instead of three, and all with decent gear and decent health. Yes, it shouldn't be like last time at all._

"I have fought werewolves before," Mazzy said, "and I would be honoured to do so again."

"We shall crush these werewolves," Minsc cried, "and rangers and hamsters everywhere shall rejoice!"

"We'll do it, then. Edwin won't be happy about having to study on the road again, but I know he won't complain about the pay," Ember said with a grin, and stood up from the table. She headed for the bar, where Lord Firkraag was eyeing the inn's admittedly meager collection of foreign wine bottles with disdain, and told him their decision.

"I have no doubt your service will be exemplary," the lord said, showing his teeth in a smile again. "If all goes well, we shall all receive exactly what we deserve."


	27. Chapter 98: Bait and Switch

**Chapter 98: Bait and Switch**

The Windspear Hills in summer were not much different from how they had been in late spring. The ground was decorated with tiny summer blossoms, too short-stemmed to be torn apart by the winds that had given the district its name, and wild strawberries were ripening in some of the more sheltered spots. On the exposed hilltops, grasses were already yellowing, the life bleached out of them by the summer sun. Several of the smaller creeks had dried up, not to return until the autumn rains replenished their sources, but a few larger streams, fed by snow melting in faraway mountains, still held water; clusters of wildflowers lined their banks. The sun burned down from a perfectly clear sky, and if not for the near-constant breezes, heat and lack of shelter would have made travelling in the rocky hills unbearable instead of merely unpleasant.

The werewolves had, of course, not been gracious enough to leave any obvious signs of their activities. There was no trace of them in the area where Ember, Minsc and Yoshimo had first encountered them, and even though the group did find the occasional pile of gnawed, sun-bleached bones, it was impossible to tell exactly what had been gnawing on the bones. They came across the remnants of campfires far more often than anything that could possibly be linked to werewolves, and when they did follow a trail in the afternoon of the second day of the hunt, it was not a trail that they expected to lead them to those creatures.

"It is on the move," Yoshimo murmured, his attention fixed on a small mound of dirt and rubble near the bank of a dried-up stream. The freshly disturbed soil, still collapsing back into the ground, might not get them any closer to their primary prey, but it did promise a welcome diversion from the fruitless hunt, and, with any luck, the possibility of getting Minsc a decent set of armour.

Without a word, Mazzy and Minsc trained their bows on the moving end of the soil bulge. The creature beneath it had noticed the group by now, and started to pick up speed as it burrowed through the dry, dusty ground, heading straight towards them. A few heartbeats later, the ankheg burst through the surface of the soil in a shower of dust and gravel, right in front of Ember and Yoshimo. Large green mandibles snapped at them, first at Yoshimo and then at Ember, but both of them dodged smoothly out of the creature's way, providing an opening for the group's two archers. The giant and the halfling peppered the ankheg with arrows; some deflected harmlessly off chitin plates, while others struck vulnerable flesh in between the segments of armour. Hissing with fury, the creature spat globs of acidic fluid in the direction of Minsc and Mazzy, but they were out of its reach; its acid spattered a patch of gravel a few feet in front of them.

Edwin spoke. A set of carefully aimed magic missiles struck the ankheg's left side, shattering at least one limb. Another volley struck its jaw, breaking the creature's main weapon. Hissing and gargling, the ankheg tried to spit through its broken mouth; it twisted and turned as if trying to face all its attackers at once. It did not notice Anomen as he approached from behind; completely ignored by the creature, the cleric raised his war hammer and brought it down on the ankheg's skull. There was a loud crack, and its writhing body went limp.

"Well done, friends!" Mazzy cried, and Minsc roared with glee. The fight had gone exceedingly well; none of the group had been harmed, and most of the ankheg's hide was intact. There would be more than enough plates to make a decent set of armour, even for someone as large as Minsc. _The blacksmith in Trademeet will certainly be able to assemble it,_ Ember mused, _and we're more likely to get a good price from him than from anyone else in Amn._

Minsc drew a dagger from his belt and moved towards the fallen beast, ready and eager to start skinning it, then halted. "Boo says someone is coming!" he announced, looking around suspiciously.

Four figures were approaching. They wore a mixture of chainmail and plate, and had drawn swords in their hands; two of them also held shields. They ran towards Ember and her companions in an odd, loping gait, and long tufts of fur surrounded their elongated snouts.

"Helm's beard," Anomen gasped. His mouth fell open in surprise.

"Werewolves... in armour?" Mazzy said, sounding as confused as Ember felt at the strange sight.

"Beasts!" one of the werewolves snarled. "Curs! Your terror ends here!"

"It is you who are the terror!" Minsc shouted. "Be afraid, evil, for justice has come for you!"

"Brave words from one so foul!" another werewolf laughed. "Have at you!"

The strange, armed werewolves fell upon the group. Ember found herself in a duel with one of the shieldbearers, and to begin with, she seemed to have the upper hand; she even landed a few blows across the werewolf's shoulders. Then, the creature seemed to somehow adjust to her fighting style, and in the span of a few moments, Ember went from pressing her attack to fighting for her life. The werewolf was far more skilled with a blade than she ever had been - at least now she could see why these werewolves would want to use swords, she thought frantically as she narrowly deflected a high, quick jab that would have skewered her chest - and attacked her with a methodical relentlessness that she'd never have expected from a creature that she'd always heard described as volatile and ferocious. It almost felt like fighting in a nightmare; nothing added up!

Ember and the werewolf danced around each other for what felt like ages, the creature blocking her at every turn, and continually forcing her to draw back with well-aimed jabs and slashes. One of the other werewolves fell to the ground with a gaping hole in its chest; Ember's opponent howled with rage, and lunged at her. She raised her shield to block the vicious blow, but met only air; with a quick twist, the werewolf had turned the strike into a feint, and the attack landed far lower on her body. Her left side exploded in agony as the werewolf's blade slashed through her armour, across her ribs, and into the softer tissues of her belly.

 _Deep. Blood. Too much blood..._

Acting on instinct, she reached for the gaping wound and willed it to heal. A glow surrounded her hands as the fire of her essence coursed through her, and the severed flesh began to knit, slowing the bleeding to a trickle. The werewolf took a step backwards, a look of utter astonishment on its face.

It never saw Minsc rush up and bring his sword down on its neck.

Struggling to stand, Ember watched with relief as her enemy crumpled to the ground, all but cut in two. She let herself fall to her knees and began to cast healing spells, short ones at first, then more complicated ones as she felt more able to focus; her injury had to be dealt with as quickly as possible. Minsc hovered over her as she worked, distraught at the idea that he might lose yet another witch. "I'll be fine," she muttered to him, and started a longer healing spell -

"What have we done?!" Anomen cried, his voice ringing with horror and despair.

Startled, Ember looked up, and saw.

Four bodies lay on the ground around them, but it was not the bodies of werewolves. The armoured figures that she and her friends had just dispatched now held human forms; the forms of two squires and two knights of the Order of the Radiant Heart. The one who had almost killed Ember stared up at the sky with pale blue eyes that had already taken on the dull, glassy look of death. His helmet had fallen off, leaving his face in plain view, and easily recognizable.

Ember's mind seemed to fill with muffled silence; she barely registered the sound of Minsc's hysterical screaming, watched without seeing as Mazzy pulled a stunned Anomen to the side of one of the fallen, and paid no heed to Edwin and Yoshimo's confused, angry denials of what had just happened.

It could not be denied, and it could not be undone.

They had killed Ajantis.

-.-.-

One moment, they had been werewolves. The next moment, they had been men.

As devastating as the sight that greeted the party when the illusion fell had been - for it was indeed an illusion, and not true lycanthropy - Mazzy took some small comfort in the fact that one of the knights had survived. The man, a paladin named Sir Cadril, was brought back from the brink of death through Anomen's healing spells. He and his troupe, he told the group, had been hunting orcs for Lord Firkraag, and had indeed thought themselves to be fighting a pack of orcs!

As Anomen had put it, a most foul ruse had been played upon them all, and it had cost three worthy men their lives. There was only one course of action: Lord Firkraag must be questioned, and if he was the one responsible for the fatal illusion, he must be brought to justice. The honour of the deceased knights and that of the living demanded no less!

She did not know where they might find Lord Firkraag, and her companions had wounds, both emotional and physical, which needed attending, but Sir Cadril proved himself able to help with both those problems. He directed them to the home of Garren Windspear, who was once the baron of the region, but now lived in a humble cabin with his young son and two servants. The erstwhile baron had aided the knights in their orc hunt, and when the group of beaten and bloodied adventurers arrived on his doorstep, he welcomed them all into his home. In no time, he and his servants provided a hot meal, clean water and bandages, and readied a large room for them all to sleep in. He instructed them all to rest; in the morning, he said, he would tell them all that he knew of Lord Jierdan Firkraag.

Mazzy glanced around the room. Sir Cadril was already asleep, and mercifully, so was Minsc; the giant ranger had all but lost his senses upon seeing that he had unwittingly killed a friend, and knowing that he had saved his charge's life in doing so was not much of a consolation. Ember sat on a bedroll, trying to mend the large tear in her armour, but Mazzy could tell it would need the touch of an expert leatherworker to restore it to full quality. The girl herself looked a little feverish - much as was to be expected after an injury to the bowels - and her face was streaked with tears, but she said very little. Anomen sat beside her. He had said much earlier, lamenting the loss of his brothers-in-arms, bemoaning the stain on their honour, and cursing whomever was responsible, but now he was as quiet as Ember. Edwin... Mazzy sighed quietly. At first, the wizard had been very insulted that anyone would dare trick him in such a fashion, but by now he was absorbed in his research, just as he was every night. He did not appear to be significantly affected by the death of a former travelmate, she noted with no little displeasure.

Yoshimo stood by the window and looked out into the darkness. He held a small dagger in his hand, and absentmindedly fiddled with it.

"Do you see anything?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "But Yoshimo will not be caught off guard again." Mazzy nodded in understanding, and let him be.

Whatever their host could tell them in the morning, she sincerely hoped it would be useful.


	28. Chapter 99: Hook, Line and Sinker

**Chapter 99: Hook, Line and Sinker**

After a night of restless sleep and bad dreams - dreams of the bandit camp in the Wood of Sharp Teeth, where every bandit she butchered wore the face of a friend - it came as a relief for Ember to wake up in Garren Windspear's cabin. The muffled silence of being indoors and the closeness of the lumber walls felt oddly comforting after several nights spent out in the open; she ran her fingers over the nearest wall, letting the sensation of roughly hewn wood under her fingertips draw her fully back to reality. Looking around, she could barely see enough to tell that the other beds in the room were empty; but for a bright stream of daylight that shone through a half opened hatch, the room lay in darkness. Judging by where the patch of light struck the opposite wall, it was well past her usual waking hour.

Moving carefully, Ember sat up on the bed. She didn't feel the least bit rested, but in all other respects, her condition seemed to be improved. The fever from the night before had passed, and the lingering ache where her side had been cut open had all but faded away; it was only when she probed the injured area with a finger that she noticed the remaining tenderness. In a day or two, even that would be gone, leaving her with only a faint scar as a memento from the fight.

The fight that had cost Ajantis his life.

A fresh wave of grief hit her. As clear and vivid as the experience itself, the memory of the startled look on Ajantis's werewolf face danced before her eyes. What had he thought in that moment, when the orc he was fighting had used such a healing gift? Could he possibly have realized the truth; could he have guessed that he was on the verge of killing someone he once called a friend? Of course not, she tried to reassure herself. Even if he recognized the healing touch, he probably just thought she was some odd kind of orcish paladin, or possibly an orcish Bhaalspawn - no, why would he think that? After all, he never knew...

 _No. Enough._

She forced back her tears, and wiped her eyes dry. It was not the first time she'd lost a friend, she sternly reminded herself, nor would it be the last. She didn't have time to waste on questions that could never be answered, not when it was perfectly clear what she had to do. Someone was responsible for this treachery; she had to find out who, and she had to deal with them. The more painful thoughts and questions would have to wait until it was over.

Doing her best not to wonder whether or not 'it' would ever actually be 'over', Ember carefully pulled on her clothes and headed to the cabin's kitchen, where she joined Mazzy in trying to convince Minsc that he still deserved to eat.

-.-.-

"Well, Sir Cadril, this is quite a situation," Garren Windspear said as everyone assembled in his kitchen.

"One might say that," the paladin replied wearily. He had lost a lot of blood, and was still pale.

"Lord Jierdan Firkraag hires you to find orcs, and you find orcs. He hires you," Garren said, turning towards Mazzy and Ember," to find werewolves, and you find werewolves. One could hardly be blamed for thinking that someone intended your groups to fight each other, hmm?"

"Can we be certain this someone is Lord Firkraag, though?" Mazzy asked.

"Certain? Of course not," Garren said, "but rest assured that you would not be the first to suffer because of his falsehoods and trickery. I have undergone the same, though my trial was less bloody."

"What happened?" Ember asked.

"My lands and my title were taken from me, almost overnight. I still bear the scars in my dreams..." The former baron sighed. "Firkraag sought my lands, so he discredited me. There were missing people only he could find, banditry only he could stop. Solutions to problems I am sure he caused."

"Aye, that makes sense," Yoshimo said. "I have heard his name mentioned in some less-than-reputable circles in the past. It seems he became wealthy and powerful far too quickly to be wholly legitimate."

"Indeed," Garren said. "The final straw was when my properties were razed in a single night; burnt to the ground, with no signs of invaders, raiding parties or even rogue arsonists. The people lost faith in me, and with nary an asset to my name, my influence crumbled. I had no choice but to sell the deeds to my lands to Firkraag, for a pittance. He got his wish, and I got this cabin." He held out his hands in a gesture of resignation. "What has happened to you is true to his style. As for which one of you offended him, and how, I cannot even begin to guess."

"He holds a grudge against the Order of the Radiant Heart, perhaps," Anomen muttered.

"I do not believe it is that simple," Sir Cadril said. "Firkraag did specifically request the services of Sir Ajantis and myself; we were told that it was due to our experience with fighting orcs this past winter. Why would he care about names if it was our Order he wished to tarnish?"

Ember listened in silence as the two surviving members of the Order argued about why they, of all people, had been targeted by such an elaborate plot. She did not say what she thought; to her, it was obvious that the larger party, fighting werewolves, was expected to slaughter the smaller party that thought they were dealing with mere orcs. _Ajantis was always a better swordfighter than me, but until he stopped treating me like a simple foe, I was beating him. Whatever the reason, someone meant for us to obliterate them. Someone meant..._

"Good sirs, calm yourselves! Any one of you could have slighted him in some way, without even knowing. He seems quite singleminded in his purposes," Garren said, interrupting the argument as well as Ember's unpleasant train of thought.

"Your grace," Mazzy asked, "what course of action do you recommend?"

"Your employer should be questioned, of course, and the Order must be informed of these events. If the two of you will assist me," Garren looked at Sir Cadril and Anomen,"I will write a brief report and have it sent to Sir Ryan Trawl. He is a friend of mine, and he will trust any account from my hand; I fear it would be most unfortunate to have the Order learn of these deaths through any other channel. A former courier of mine lives in a nearby village, and I am sure he would be happy to take this task. I can deliver my report into his hands and be back before nightfall, and in the morning, I can direct you to Firkraag's estate."

-.-.-

Less than an hour after the meeting, Garren rode off with his missive, leaving his son, Taar, to act as host to their unexpected guests. The young man took his duty very seriously, and did his best to make sure everyone was as comfortable as was possible considering the circumstances. Those who wished peace, he left alone, but he spoke at length with those who wanted conversation, and could add several details to his father's tale of Firkraag's dealings.

"My father is very much the trusting sort. That is why Lord Jierdan Firkraag was able to usurp his lands. My father languishes while Jierdan lives the high-life," the youth bitterly told Mazzy and Ember. "You could do much to bolster my father's spirit; bringing that Firkraag to task would help a lot. Please, if not for my father, then for yourself."

Ember was about to reply when Edwin, who had ensconced himself in a well-lit corner with his documents, suddenly cried out in glee.

"Ahh HA! I understand it!"

"Pardon?" Taar asked, confused by the wizard's outburst.

"Sorry to bother your petty concerns," Edwin replied disdainfully, "but I have translated some of the Nether Scroll! (Hmm... ancient magic at my fingertips, and more yet to decipher. It has been a good day.) What are you staring at? I've had my say; back to whatever you were doing, and let me work in peace!"

"Edwin is always like that," Mazzy told Taar.

"I see," the youth said hesitantly. "I... I trust that my father has not misplaced the faith he has in you."

"Rest assured, he has not," Ember said.

They sat in silence for a while, Edwin lost in his work and the rest lost in their thoughts. The peace was not broken again until the late afternoon, when one of the servants, a halfling named Jum, burst in through the cabin door in a panic.

"Run! Hide! There is trouble, I am sure!" he shouted, wide-eyed with fear.

"Quiet yourself, Jum," Taar said, "you don't want to alarm our guests. What is the matter?"

"Bandits! I saw them! Coming! They try not to be seen, but I saw them! Nearly here! Hide and run!"

"Bandits? I wonder what they are up to," Yoshimo said.

Sir Cadril stood up and reached for his sword. "We'd better go look. Wait here, lad."

Ember and her companions followed the knight outside. There were no signs of bandits, only bright afternoon sunlight and the sound of wind through branches.

A muffled shout came from the cabin behind them.

"Taar!" Mazzy shouted, and rushed back into the cabin. The youth was not there. A letter lay on the ground where Garren's son had stood mere moments ago. Jum crouched in a corner, shivering.

"W-w-wizard," the halfling stammered. "Came out of nowhere and grabbed the young master, he did, and poof! they were gone..."

"Dimension door," Edwin muttered with disgust as Sir Cadril picked up the letter. The paladin glanced at it, and wordlessly handed it to Ember; her name was written on the outside. A sense of dread filled her as she broke the letter's elaborate seal, which was stamped with Firkraag's crest.

"Ember of Candlekeep," she read, "I give you the opportunity to earn back your honour, and more. This game is interesting, but it drags on and on. Come, let us meet and decide who is... who is the better 'person.' To the northeast lies our battleground. You will know it to see it. Yes, I think you will know."

"We no longer need to question Firkraag's role in this, I suppose," Yoshimo said.

"Or who his target is," Ember muttered, crumpling the letter in her fist. She couldn't say she was the least bit surprised; if anything, the letter was less cruel than she'd expected.

"The evil man who tricked us has taken Garren's child?!" Minsc roared, rousing himself as if from a stupor. "No longer will Minsc stand for this treachery! There will be justice, for Minsc and for little Ajantis and for little Ember and for everyone! Minsc's blade will serve it in very large helpings! TREMBLE, EVIL!"

"Your large friend has the right of it," Sir Cadril said, giving Ember a strange look. "Everything indicates that this is a trap, but even so, we must retrieve young Taar, and as quickly as possible. We should leave immediately."

"I agree." Ember smoothed out the crumpled letter and handed it to Jum. "When your master returns, give him this and tell him what happened. Tell him we've gone to confront Firkraag, and to rescue his son."

Clutching the letter in both hands, the still-trembling servant watched in silence as the adventurers gathered their gear and left the cabin, heading northeast.


	29. Chapter 100: The Mouth of the Beast

**Chapter 100: The Mouth of the Beast**

As Firkraag had predicted, Ember did indeed know when she'd found the right place.

A scant hour's walk northeast of Garren's cabin, a massive gate jutted out of a cliffside. A pair of imposing stone columns outlined doors that were tall enough to let even a giant enter comfortably; these doors stood wide open like a colossal gaping maw, with a shadowed cavern within. A tongue of a walkway, paved with granite slabs, rolled forth from the gate doors and completed the strange impression that a beast of grey rock was hiding in the hill, waiting for unsuspecting prey to enter its mouth. The beast even had attendants; a pair of dragon sculptures, carved from pale marble and with Firkraag's emblem painted on their chests, sat on top of the stone columns, peering down into the gate as if waiting for a chance to snatch up anything they deemed unworthy of their master's appetite.

"Charming place," Ember murmured as the group crouched down behind a windblown bush that was barely large enough to hide them all. Somehow, the dragon statues seemed to be following her with their eyes.

"Suits its owner perfectly, no? The only question is: what do we do about them?" Yoshimo pointed at the half dozen orc guards that milled around the gate opening.

"I would not hesitate to cut them down, could I but be certain that they are what they appear. Your wizard is useless in this matter..." Sir Cadril said, earning himself a angry, sullen glare and some of Edwin's usual muttered insults. "Delryn," the paladin continued, "surely there must be something you can do to solve this conundrum?"

"Nay," Anomen said sourly. "Nay, there is not."

"Is there any way we could avoid a confrontation?" Mazzy asked. "Could we sneak past them somehow?"

Yoshimo frowned. "If we find a back entrance, perhaps."

"If these are evil orcs, Minsc will not sneak his justice past them!"

 _The longer we wait, the worse it'll get._ "There's really only one way to do this," Ember said, and stood up. Ignoring both Anomen's attempt to make her stop and the knot of nervousness in her belly, she walked up the stone tongue towards the gate, in plain sight of the orcs; they snarled in warning and pointed their swords at her. "I have come to see Firkraag," she called out to them.

One of the orcs, large and brutish and with a scarlet sash around the waist, laughed gutturally at her. "You early! Troop need kick in arse to get ready! Firkraag be warned, though I think he not care! Take her!" The orc headed into the darkness inside the gate, while the rest of the guards advanced on Ember.

 _Not so fast,_ she thought wryly. With a few syllables, she coaxed the scant mosses and herbs that grew around the gate into a writhing, entangling mass that twined around the orcs' legs; while they struggled to free themselves from the bespelled plants, Ember's companions caught up with her and more than evened the odds. Before long, every single one of the orc guards lay dead on the ground.

"True orcs, I believe," Sir Cadril said with relief. "Orcish speech patterns, orcish combat styles, and now they yield orc bodies. Our honour has not been stained further."

"Nevertheless, he may deceive us again," Mazzy said, peering into the darkness ahead of them. "We should keep to the shadows, and avoid combat to the greatest extent possible."

"It will not be easy. The entire place probably knows of our arrival by now," Yoshimo said.

"I don't think it'll make any difference," Ember said lightly, trying to keep the anxiety she felt from showing. "I was invited, after all."

-.-.-

Beyond Firkraag's gates lay a giant cavern. The floor and some of the walls had been smoothed, and lit torches had been affixed to the walls every ten feet or so, but other than that, Firkraag had clearly let nature do most of the work for him. The ceiling, studded with stalactites, vaulted far above them, and simple walkways had been built where cracks and crevices made the floor unsound. There were several smaller caves within the main cavern; many of them held deep pools of milky white water, and some were inhabited by mist creatures that did not appreciate being disturbed. The main cavern itself turned downwards on the left side, forming a wide, seemingly bottomless pit with sides far too steep for scaling. Peering into it, it was just barely possible to glimpse a walkway below, about halfway down the visible part of the pit. On the right side of the cavern was the only human-sized feature in it; a single door of oak and iron.

The group pressed onwards through the door, and entered a veritable maze of rooms and corridors. They had to deal with an orc ambush in the first large chamber, and either hid from or fought with the stone and clay golems that patrolled the larger corridors, but other than that, they encountered surprisingly little opposition as they worked their way downwards. Still, it was a wearying, disorienting task, and with several members of the party in less than full health, it soon became clear that they would not reach Firkraag that night.

"Boo did not think this house would be so large," Minsc said wearily as the group settled down in what appeared to be a seldom used storage chamber.

"Come now, good Minsc," Yoshimo said, sitting down on a musty-smelling grain sack, "wasn't the size of his front door an indicator?"

"I wonder how Lord Firkraag came to live here," Mazzy said quietly. "Surely he did not build this maze by himself; the corridors show several signs of age, and even if they did not, how could he have had the time and resources for such a project?"

"It would appear he is accustomed to taking possession of that which belongs to others," Anomen grumbled.

After sharing a cold meal of bread, dried meat and fruits, and water, most of the group settled into their bedrolls. They slept in shifts, with two people on watch duty at all times, but their precautions were for nothing; the night passed without incident. Not as much as a single orc moved in the hallway that passed the storage chamber; even if the group might, as they reasoned, be in a disused part of the complex, the complete absence of Firkraag's minions was troubling.

Ember's watch was in the hours before dawn. She spent the first half with Mazzy, who made many calming observations about their situation and talked with her about the loss of friends; the second half she spent with Sir Cadril, who barely said a word more than necessary to her, and instead gave her strange, scrutinizing looks. It made her feel very uncomfortable, and by the time Anomen relieved her for the final watch of the night, all the calmness that talking with Mazzy had instilled in her was gone. Knowing she was too agitated to sleep, she settled down in a corner of the storage chamber and entered a meditative trance, letting herself draw strength from the scant whispers of life that existed within the caves and tunnels around her.

She completed her meditations to find that Anomen and Sir Cadril were arguing; their voices were low and calm, and barely audible where she was sitting, but they were very clearly agitated.

"You cannot blame me for being concerned, Delryn," the paladin said. "You've always been too eager in your quest for honour and glory, you know. The Order would not want to see you turn mercenary in your pursuit of those qualities."

"Our cause is just!" Anomen snapped. "And rest assured, I will endeavour to keep it that way."

"You travel with a Kozakuran scoundrel, an addled man, a Thayvian Red Wizard, and one who has drawn the ire of what is clearly a madman -"

"Do not speak of her so! Garren Windspear has been subject to similar favours; do you deny that he is honourable?"

"There is something odd about her, Delryn. What do you know of her, truly?"

"I do know that she is a force of righteousness," Anomen said. "If you will forgive me, Sir Cadril, I believe it is time for my morning prayers."

The sound of heavy boots against stone followed the cleric as he stomped out of the watch chamber and away from the paladin. Sir Cadril sighed and muttered something about Helm.

Ember remained silent. Something odd about her, indeed! She badly wanted to know what the paladin meant by that, but she didn't dare ask him; the way he'd looked at her told her more than clearly enough that whatever he sensed about her, it was not positive. _I could have asked Ajantis, if only..._ She closed her eyes and sat back against the rocky wall, and didn't move until Anomen returned to the camp a short while later. He looked upset.

"Anomen, what's wrong?" she asked quietly as the cleric walked past her.

"My lady!" He gave her a startled look that soon turned wary. "You overheard," he said.

"I did, but just a little," she admitted. "Thank you for defending me."

"He had no right to speak of you in such terms!" Anomen said, a little too loud. "Sir Cadril has never approved of me," he grumbled in a much lower voice. "He is not much older than I, but because he has attained his knighthood, he believes he has the right to lecture me about the path I choose towards my own! Bah!"

"I'm sorry," she said, and waited for him to continue, but he did not. Instead, he opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it again, looked at her, looked uncomfortably away, fidgeted slightly with his hands, and started to turn red.

"Will you walk with me, my lady?" he finally said. She agreed, and followed him down a short corridor into another chamber, which was piled to the ceiling with slightly damp firewood.

"So... what's really the matter?" she asked.

"Yesterday morning, after the... incident, I prayed to Helm, asking that he would grant me the ability to see through such a deception... that I might never again be helpless in the face of such subterfuge. The only response I received was silence. I repeated my request this morning, with the same result. Angered and dismayed, I asked why I was denied so; in that, I was answered." He laughed bitterly. "How could I be granted the gift of True Seeing while my own vision remains clouded?"

"I see," she said. _No wonder he's upset!_ "It's probably just that you're not ready for such magic yet."

"Not ready... or not worthy."

"What would make you think that?!"

"Joining the Order of the Radiant Heart was always my heart's desire, but... I wished to serve as a paladin. I spent my youth preparing and waiting for the day when I would finally receive my Calling... but that day never came. I was not worthy of such an honour. On my mother's encouragement, I eventually offered to pledge myself to the Church, that I might still be able to enter the Order; I must confess that my astonishment was as great as my joy when I was accepted. My Lord Helm cannot have forgotten that serving Him as a priest was never my first choice, nor my ulterior goal; it should not surprise me that such a cleric is not permitted the usage of His greater gifts."

"But -"

"I speak and think much of my Test of Knighthood, but even as I look forward to it, I also dread it. And... I dare not test the depth of my faith by performing a Vigil at the Temple. I... I fear I would fail." He sighed. "Sir Cadril is right to doubt me; even Mazzy Fentan is more deserving of knighthood than I."

"Anomen," she said, determined to not let him interrupt her a second time, "maybe it's just that you were not meant to be a paladin?"

"I thought that much was obvious."

"Yes, yes," she said impatiently, "but not necessarily the way you see it. I've never told you how I became a druid, have I?"

"Nay, my lady. Indeed, I know very few things about your past," he said, and looked at her with curiosity.

"Well, know that when I decided to pursue this path, I turned first to Eldath."

"Eldath?" Anomen's eyes widened with surprise. "You, my lady, an Eldathrin?"

"Doesn't quite fit, does it?" she said with a small grin. "I prayed to her with all my heart, but it was Mielikki that answered, and it was Mielikki that accepted my pledge. I was not meant to be a Peacewoman."

"Indeed, I cannot imagine you in such a role," he said thoughtfully. "But I must ask: how did it feel to be given such an alternate offer?"

"More wonderful than I could have imagined," she said quietly. "I was denied what I wanted, and given what I needed... and I was given to understand that, that very night. I've never regretted how things turned out - not on that account, at least. Anomen, what if you were no more meant to be a paladin than I was to be an Eldathrin? In my experience, the gods do not grant their favours lightly; Helm would not have accepted you if he did not wish you to serve him."

A hint of a wry smile crossed the cleric's face. "Your point is duly taken."

"And don't worry about that spell; I really do think that it's just because you're not ready yet. Once you have the understanding you need - when your vision is no longer clouded - I'm certain you'll be granted it."

"That may never happen," he sighed, then smiled at her. "But... you are most kind to say so, my lady."

-.-.-

They sat together in silence for a while; the peace was eventually broken, but not by one of their companions. Instead, it was a small orc that scurried into the chamber, made a frightened squeal at the sight of the two humans, and, in an attempt to flee, stumbled over a few scattered pieces of wood and fell flat on its face. Moments later, Anomen fell upon the creature, grabbing it by the shoulder and pinning it to the floor.

"Pleeze, mercy on me!" the orc wheezed. "Me sorry. No kill! I beg! I beg! Let me go live!"

"I defy you to give me a reason why I should let you live!" the cleric growled.

"I tell you secrets! Things about place you not know! You get good secret here, I tell you!"

"Then cease your whining and speak!"

"Firkraag run the place! He hidey-hide in special place with Garren child. He wait in dere for yous to comes."

"We know that much already," Ember said.

"Tell us what defenses Lord Firkraag has!" Anomen demanded.

"Defenses? Lord Firkraag no need defenses. You silly to think so! We hunt the feed and guard the home, but he not need us protect him!"

"Sure of himself, isn't he?" Ember muttered.

"He sure you gonna die," the orc said. "Me sure too. Me sure I run other way so I not killed too by accident. He get mad, bad things happen. I go now. I go fast!" With a quick twist, the orc managed to kick Anomen's arm just hard enough that the cleric let go. Before he could catch the orc again, it was on its feet and running away as fast as its legs could carry it.

"Run then, cowardly creature," Anomen grumbled in disgust.

Ember sighed. "We should get moving, too."


	30. Chapter 101: Firkraag Revealed

**Chapter 101: Firkraag Revealed**

In the lower levels, after fighting their way past a couple squads of orc guards and traversing the walkway that spanned the pit they'd seen from the main cavern, Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers. In one of the larger chambers, they were approached by two battered and weary-looking men. The men claimed that they had been trapped there for the past four days, and pleaded for aid for their wounded companions.

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

"Sorry, sorry," the man said, and backed slightly away. "But we must hurry!"

"If imbecilic amateurs such as you can last four days here without us," Edwin snapped, "you can last a few moments longer!"

Ember frowned. _They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim?_ "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

"(I warned the fool,)" Edwin muttered smugly as he straightened his robes.

"Why am I not surprised to find the actual werewolves in his employ?" Ember said.

"The rest of them must await us behind this door," Yoshimo said. "Allow me..." The Kara-Turan kneeled in front of the door and deftly rigged a tripwire attached to a small bag so that the wire spanned the length of the threshold. "There," he said, standing up and brushing dust from his hands. "Now, we may welcome them properly!"

"What is in the bag?" Mazzy asked.

Yoshimo grinned. "Trust me."

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

"A little trap I prepared before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

"Very well spent," Ember said. "Come, it can't be much farther now."

One of the two other exits led only to a small, dusty and very empty room. The other led to a room where half a dozen large orcs were waiting; one of them was the orc with the scarlet sash that had left the front gate. "Stupid werewolves! DigDag knew they fail," the orc with the sash growled. "Now we make stand! Make Firkraag proud he served by Stuck in Craw Clan!"

The other orcs roared with glee as they charged, swords and axes held high. Strong, well-armoured, and eager for a fight, they offered far more of a challenge than the werewolves, and most of the party suffered injuries by the time the last orc was felled; Edwin was only alive thanks to his protective spells, which had absorbed all but two of the blows aimed at him, and Sir Cadril's recently broken shield arm had to be reset before it could be healed again.

"No orc will make stand while Minsc and Boo live!" Minsc bellowed proudly as Anomen closed a gash across his forehead.

"Indeed, they shall not," Anomen said; upon noticing that Ember was watching them, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back.

"They were guarding this door," Mazzy said, standing in front of a double door of iron-bound oak. She gave one of the doors a gentle push; it slid open without as much as a creak, and she peered inside. "I wonder... Oh! Come, my friends!"

On the other side of the door was a room with several lockers and cabinets, and two rows of tables with accompanying benches. A darkened corridor led away from the far corner, and three barred cells lined the opposite wall. Taar was locked inside one of the cells; the boy stared at the group with wild eyes, his hands clenching the iron bars so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Thank the gods!" the boy cried. "Free me and we shall away! Find the mage - he has the key - the locks are magical. Hurry!"

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's -"

There was a flash of light, and the boy froze in place, bound by a holding spell; his mouth was still open in speech.

"He is waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

Sir Cadril stepped forward. "Release the boy at once!"

"He is waiting for you," the mage repeated, in the tone of one explaining something to a small child, and headed back into the darkness, leaving the group with little choice but to follow.

-.-.-

The corridor led to a steadily widening flight of steps, which in turn led to a cavern as least as large as the one up near the gates. The cavern floor was almost perfectly smooth and dusted with powdered rock; here and there, the rocks had been melted to a glassy sheen. Numerous fire pots bathed the area in a golden, flickering light and made the patches of glassy rock glitter like jewels.

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. _And why not be amused,_ Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

"Welcome," the dragon said. "You have come, as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it."

It felt like an eternity before Ember could make her voice work. "Why?" she finally asked. "Why have you forced this confrontation?"

"For my amusement, for my curiosity, and for my memory of transgressions long since past."

"Transgressions? What transgressions?"

"Very well, an in-depth response," Firkraag said, sounding very put upon. "Gorion. He raised you, and was as much your father as anyone. He was also an adventurer in his day, and crossed my path long ago. Him and his Harper friends. I still bear the scars of that meeting." The dragon shifted his wings in annoyance, letting Ember catch a glimpse of a large, jagged scar across his upper torso; from the look of it, his scales had never fully closed over the wound. "He is beyond my revenge, being dead as he is, so I settled for the next best thing. I can torment his spirit by destroying you. Wherever he is, he is seething."

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

"All of this over a grudge with a dead man?" Sir Cadril cried out. "Are you mad?"

The dragon chuckled. "I had toyed with forgetting the transgression, though it has not been that long in dragon terms. After all, her lineage would make an interesting subject to study, or so I thought; I must say I've been disappointed with her progress. Her conflict with Jon Irenicus shows some promise, though."

"I suppose you are league with that sadist, aren't you?" Ember growled. _I wouldn't be the least bit surprised!_

"I will have no dealings with that creature. I am merely interested in **your** confrontation with him. It was almost enough incentive for me to leave you be, but when I learned from my werewolves that you had shown yourself in my lands and all but trampled across my doorstep in order to curry favours from the dryad queen, I decided that a lesson was in order. Yes, a lesson; do not glare at me like that, Child. For now, you bore me. I will taunt you no more. You may go."

"We cannot leave without Garren's son," Mazzy said. "You know this."

"Do I know this? Do I really? Oh, very well. Here, rescue the boy from my servant and feel fulfilled. Do not think it will be easy; I test my subjects thusly all the time, and they know that failure is death," Firkraag said. "Conster! Go to the boy! If this group fails to take him from you, kill him." The mage bowed before the dragon, opened a dimension door, stepped through it, and vanished.

"Make haste!" Anomen cried, and led the group as they ran up the stairs back to the room where Taar was held captive. Conster was waiting for them there, standing calmly in front of the cell where Taar cowered in fear. The mage chanted a few magical syllables as the group approached him. He was not moving his hands, and Ember expected the spell to only be a simple cantrip, but when the chant completed, Yoshimo and Minsc were struck by a bolt of lightning.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments. Snarling, Conster flung a second lighting bolt at his attackers, taking care to aim it so that it'd strike Edwin as well, but the Thayvian's boots of grounding showed their worth; he shrugged off the spell and continued with his casting, and as Anomen and Mazzy got close enough to strike Conster, Edwin removed several layers of his magical wards. Almost immediately, the mage's protective spells renewed themselves, buying him enough time to cast acid arrows at Edwin as well as strike his attackers with a third round of lightning before Minsc finally broke through the toughest of the wards. The mage was still almost invulnerable, but it was enough; before long, Sir Cadril managed to run his blade through Conster's chest.

"He has the key?" Mazzy asked Taar, and immediately started searching the fallen mage's robes.

"Yes, look in his pocket... no, the other side...that's it! That's it!" the boy cried, all but weeping with relief at the sight of the small metal key in the halfling's hand. "Oh, thank you! Quick, we must away from this place!"

"Not yet," Ember said as she finished healing the acid burns on Edwin's arms and face. Her own limbs were still shaking from the lightning, and even after healing her own wounds, she still ached all over, but it wasn't too bad; she'd endured far worse before, after all. _And worse is still to come, I fear._ "Yoshimo, help me search the lockers."

With Yoshimo's lockpicking skill, searching the room was quick work; they found several spellscrolls, some enchanted arrows, and a selection of potions, including a few potions of icedust. She allowed herself a smile as she gathered them up; even as loyal as Firkraag's underlings had been, they clearly hadn't been trusting.

"We... we cannot let it end like this, can we?" Sir Cadril said. "This is a foul beast of legend; surely we will not let it get away with its manipulations! Too many have suffered at its whim!"

"Don't worry, Sir Cadril; I don't think we'll get much of a choice in this matter," Ember said, and started distributing the potions she'd found. "Bored with me or not, we know what he is now. He will not just let us walk out of here alive."

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."


	31. Chapter 102: Enter the Dragon

**Chapter 102: Enter the Dragon**

Ember expected Firkraag to attack as soon as the group got outside, but he did not wait that long. When the group exited the maze of corridors and entered the upper main chamber, the dragon was there, waiting for them.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, his voice echoing from the rock walls. He rose out of the giant pit, propelled upwards by slowly flapping his wings, which were large enough to almost scrape the walls with every beat. Eyeing the group challengingly, he landed on the edge of the pit, letting his claws dig into the rock as he did so, and when Ember and her companions immediately withdrew into the room behind them, out of his reach, his taunts of cowardice followed them.

"This is it, then," Sir Cadril murmured. "Taar, do you see the exit over there?"

"Y-yes."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Stay close to the walls, and wh-when the dragon's not looking at me, I go that way."

"Good lad. Now, let's get ready for this, shall we?"

In final preparation, Ember, Anomen, and Edwin cast every protective spell they could think of on the group; spells of haste, damage absorption, fire protection, strength, and various blessings that would enhance both defense and attack. Sir Cadril contributed by warding them all from fear, and Yoshimo rounded off the proceedings by opening a vial of icedust and liberally sprinkling its contents on everyone. The enchanted ice particles would, until they evaporated, protect everything they touched from fire damage; the vials were their best chance of success, and Ember could only hope they had enough of them to last the battle. _Or, that the battle will last long enough for us to use them._

It was time.

With a bloodcurdling roar, Minsc charged out of the room, straight towards the dragon; Ember drew a deep breath and followed him, along with Anomen and Sir Cadril. The dragon came into their view; glimmers of magic energy coursed over Firkraag's skin as he covered himself with enchantments, then, as they closed on him, he reared up. Massive wings swept forward like waves of flesh and bone, and Ember's world seemed to explode with white pain. She let her body roll with the force of impact as the wing knocked her to the ground, groped around for her scimitar - she'd let go of it - and got back up on her feet just in time to see Edwin's spells breach some of the dragon's magical protections. Mazzy and Yoshimo stood beside the wizard, peppering the dragon's head with enchanted ice arrows in an attempt to hit the vulnerable eyes; most of their arrows did no more than bounce off his scales with a brittle clattering sound.

The dragon roared, sending a river of fire towards his foes. Searing, choking heat enveloped them, but did not burn them; many of the ice crystals that covered Ember's skin, armour, and weapon melted away, but she was unharmed. Thanking fate for the icedust, she resumed her charge at the dragon, joining Minsc in attacking the wing joint. This time, she got close enough to actually attack, but to her dismay, her scimitar did nothing; the scales on the wing, small as they were, were far too tough for her to break. Anger flashed through her; for a moment, she found herself missing her cursed Sharran sword and its cold blade. The dragon flinched away from the attack, much like a person would flinch away from an angry bee, then buffeted them with his wing, sending both her and Minsc tumbling across the cavern floor.

"Icedust? Clever," Firkraag rumbled. "But how much do you have?"

Groggily shaking her head, Ember turned to see the dragon looking at her with pure malice. He inhaled deeply; he was going to breathe fire again! Acutely aware of her icedust coating, which had dwindled to only a few specks, she fumbled for the vial that should have hung from her belt, but her fingers found only shattered glass.

 _No!_

A cloud of ice crystals rained down on her, and in the instant before flames engulfed them, she caught a glimpse of Anomen, holding an emptied icedust vial in his hand. The fire flowed harmlessly around her.

"Close," Anomen gasped.

She nodded mutely. They all still lived, but how long would that last? They had not even scratched the dragon yet! Her one consolation was seeing Taar, who was almost at the exit; he, at least, might still survive this.

"Arvoreen, guide us!"

Mazzy's voice rang throughout the cavern, strong and clear and somehow larger than any sound a halfling body should be able to produce; the words seemed to fill Ember's heart, raising her spirits and restoring her courage.

"Scatter!" Mazzy shouted; her voice was back to normal, and her face glowed with astonishment and joy. The others did as she commanded and spread out, approaching the dragon from all four sides while Edwin worked his magic and Mazzy and Yoshimo fired their arrows. By now, some of the arrows had struck true; one was lodged in Firkraag's left eye socket, and few more studded the softer tissues inside his mouth.

No longer able to face all his attackers at once, Firkraag lashed out at random with wings, claws, and tail. A swipe of the right wing almost struck Ember across her torso, but she managed to mostly ward it off with her shield; her shield arm was jolted a bit, and for a moment, it went numb with pain. She shrugged off the pain, tightened her grip on the shield, and let herself draw upon her own fire. Heat, almost as searing as the dragon's, coursed through her as she drew strength and sturdiness from her divine essence, and when she attacked the wing again, the force behind her blade was more than enough to tear a large gash in the wing membrane. Firkraag raised his wings and started to turn towards her, unwittingly giving Minsc an opening; with a shout of glee, he rushed forward and slashed directly across the old scar on the dragon's upper torso, sending scales flying and cutting deep into the flesh itself. Growling with anger or pain, the dragon struck Minsc with his claws, knocking the giant ranger across the cavern floor. Unconscious and bleeding from several deep gashes, his body only came to a halt when it struck a large stalagmite.

The dragon moved to follow Minsc.

"Halt, fiend!" Sir Cadril cried, stepping in between Minsc and the dragon. Firkraag swatted at the paladin, but Sir Cadril managed to deflect the massive claws with his greatsword, then struck the dragon's forelimbs on his counterattack. Taking advantage of the dragon's distraction, Ember hurried to where Minsc lay and started chanting healing prayers over him; his chest and face were badly injured, and his armour was beyond salvaging. While she worked, the dragon roared fire again; tendrils of flame licked at herself and Minsc, but did nothing beyond evaporating some more of the icedust, and a quick look around told Ember that all Firkraag's roar had accomplished was reducing the arrows in the roof of his mouth to charred stumps. Relieved, she took a vial from Minsc's belt and scattered a fresh layer of icedust over herself and her fallen friend, and once she was certain he'd survive, she got up and rejoined the battle. By now, almost everyone was focusing on the scar Minsc had reopened; Mazzy and Yoshimo aimed their ice arrows at the wound, freezing flesh and blood where they struck, and Edwin sent clusters of magic missiles at it, dislodging more scales and further opening the injury.

Sir Cadril still held Firkraag's attention when Anomen landed a sturdy blow near the main joint of the left wing. The bone snapped with an audible crack, and the wing drooped to the ground. The dragon immediately struck out at Anomen, but in doing so, he inadvertently exposed the opened scar to Sir Cadril. The paladin raised his greatsword and stabbed it deep into the wound.

Hot, black blood gushed out around the blade. The dragon screamed and reared up on his hind legs. A fiery roar struck the cavern ceiling, scorching the stalactites; several spears of rock broke off in the intense heat and fell to the ground, some falling upon the wounded dragon, while others merely smashed against the rock floor.

Breathing heavily, the dragon fell back down on all fours. "Well... played..." he wheezed, looking at Ember. "Your father... so proud." He did not move as Sir Cadril stepped forward and wrenched his sword from the wound.

"Justice shall be swift and final!" Sir Cadril cried, and stabbed again, embedding his sword to the hilt. The dragon shuddered once, then fell forward, the light gone from his yellow eyes.

Firkraag was dead.

-.-.-

After a night of celebration, shared stories, and much-needed rest, the group returned to the lair the following morning, accompanied by Garren and Taar. As they made their way down to the lower reaches, Garren told them what he knew about the place; it was, indeed, originally the lair of a red dragon. "That dragon was driven away in my childhood, by a group of Harpers, actually. When Firkraag chose to move into the old lair, I though he was just being flamboyant. But now, knowing what you have told me... I find myself wondering if it was not his home all along," Garren said thoughtfully.

In the far end of the lower chamber, in a series of rooms carved in the rock wall, they found Firkraag's hoard. The dragon, it would appear, had been fond of jewelry and decorative items; instead of gold coins, they found golden plates, golden water ewers, statuettes of pure gold, ruby encrusted keepsake boxes, piles of jewelry, and several elegant weapons with gold inlaid hilts. One of the rooms had been dressed as an exquisitely garish apartment, complete with gold-embroidered silk sheets on a golden bed, golden toiletries on a dresser of polished oak brushed with gold leaf, and a gold-embossed shelf that held scrolls of magic. A golden desk stood in the center of the room; in its top drawer, they found the deed to the Windspear Hills.

"This befalls you, I believe," Ember said, and handed the deed to Garren. He clutched the deed to his chest, beaming with joy.

"My heart is free, and I have you to thank," Garren said. "Remind me, how much do you need to rescue your friend?"

"We lack six thousand five hundred out of twenty thousand in gold," Edwin said distractedly; he was preoccupied with scrutinizing the scroll shelf.

"Come with me," Garren said, and took Ember to one of the rooms that held jewelry. There, he filled a bag with diamonds, ruby rings, and strings of pearls. "This should cover it," he said with a smile as he gave the bag to Ember.

She stared at him in amazement. "This... Garren, this is worth thirty, maybe even fourty thousand!"

"I expect it is."

"I-I thank you, but I can't accept this much; you'll need the money to rebuild!"

"Firkraag's cutlery alone should be enough for that," he grinned. "It was you and your friends that rid my lands of that creature; you are more than entitled to a fair share of his wealth. In fact, I am the one who should be thanking you, for letting me keep so much of it."

"You have no idea what this means for me," she told Garren, her voice half choked with emotion.

"Oh, but I do," he said, glancing through a doorway at Taar. "I most certainly do."

Over the course of the day, several treasures were uncovered. Minsc found what he called a good new sword for Sir Cadril; upon receiving it, the stunned paladin proclaimed it to be Carsomyr, a legendary paladin blade. Other finds included a perfect suit of dwarf-made plate mail which fit Mazzy like a glove, multiple valuable spell scrolls, and an enchanted cloak. One of the greatest treasures was not in the rooms, but scattered on the ground outside them: fire dragon scales. Hundreds of them littered the cavern floor; tough and durable, they could be made into an excellent suit of armour, and Athkatla held at least one smith capable of doing so.

"Our friend Minsc will finally have armour worthy of his stature," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he, Ember, and Anomen finished filling a sack with dragon scales. "We also have the fee for Imoen, and our honour is restored. A most fruitful day!"

"I suppose so," Ember said, "but the price was a bit too steep for my tastes."

Yoshimo nodded in understanding. He laced the sack shut, hoisted it over his shoulder, and carried it to the cavern exit.

"Were you and Sir Ajantis close, my lady?" Anomen asked.

"Ajantis," she sighed. "We were friends, but... we did not part on the best terms. I was... it was before I became a druid, and I'd become a rather unpleasant person by the time his summons came."

"I must say I find that hard to believe."

She smiled wistfully at him. "Ajantis was quite troubled by my behaviour by the time he left us, you know. He told me he barely recognized me anymore." She fell silent for a moment. "He helped me see that I needed to change. And now I can never let him know that I did."

"I regret that it cannot be otherwise," Anomen said quietly. "I hope you did not part in anger."

"No. No, we didn't. It took... I finally saw what he meant, just before he left us. I told him I'd try to do something about it, but..."

"If Sir Ajantis knew the strength of your will - as I suspect he did - I have no doubt that he believed you would accomplish that task. My lady, do not believe that he thought ill of you; you would wrong both yourself and his memory in doing so."

"I... I'll try," she said. "Thank you, Anomen."

"You are most welcome, my lady." He picked up a small, glittering scale and turned it over in his hands, letting the red and golden surfaces catch the light. "I have found that there is much comfort in sharing the matters that pain us, and it gladdens me to be of service to you as you have been to me. Perhaps..." He glanced at her, and his cheeks reddened slightly. "Perhaps one day... we will speak of other things?"

 _Other things..._ A pleasant warmth seemed to fill her as she looked into his dark blue eyes; distantly, it occurred to her that she'd never really noticed their colour before.

"I think I would like that," she said.


	32. Chapter 103: Storm Brewing

**Chapter 103: Storm Brewing**

Ember and her companions returned to Athkatla on a hot, sunscorched afternoon. A layer of billowing clouds was forming above the city, but it would not thicken to rain until the evening at the earliest; for now, a dead calm reigned in the streets. The air was hazy with heat, sticky with moisture, and more pungent than ever. Few people moved in the streets. The guards that were posted outside most prominent buildings were sweating and grumbling, and the merchants who normally stood in front of their displays, hawking their goods at the top of their lungs, had all withdrawn in under the shelter of their canopied booths. Even the beggars were more listless than usual.

"Boo misses the forest," Minsc lamented. "We didn't even visit the forest ladies again!"

Ember had wanted to visit the dryads as well, but she was nowhere near trusting enough or reckless enough to wilfully bring a Red Wizard to their kingdom. "It wasn't the right time for it," she said. "But maybe we can take Imoen to see them after all this? I think she'd like that."

A broad smile blossomed on Minsc's face. "Boo agrees!"

Just like before, the group arrived at Gaelan Bayle's house to find his nephew Brus sitting on the doorstep. This time, however, the boy was not on watch duty; his attention was fixed on what looked like a fairly sharp dagger, which he was twirling between his fingers.

"Hello, Brus," Ember said.

The boy gave a start, almost losing control of the dagger. "Adventurers!" Brus cried, giving the group a gap-toothed smile. "I did nay think I'd be talkin' to you louts again!"

"It is a pleasure to see you again too, Master Brus," Yoshimo said, bowing deeply to the boy. "Is your uncle at home?"

"'Course not! But he'll be back by sundown, an' prob'ly sooner. You wanna wait here? I won' mind!"

The front of Bayle's house lay in shade, and the street was fairly quiet; it was as good a place to wait than any. Mazzy and Minsc sat down beside Brus, and the three of them were soon deep in conversation about knife skills, adventuring, and dragons. Ember found a seat at the foot of the doorstep. Edwin perched himself alongside the wall with his ubiquitous bundle of scrolls and documents. Yoshimo stood at the corner of the house, leaning casually against the wall as he watched the goings-on in the adjoining, busier street, and Anomen took up a post beside him, standing tall and straight and looking exactly like a watchman on duty; Ember couldn't help but smile at the difference in their stances.

 _I should tell him what I am._

The thought was unpleasant, but it was true: if anything significant were to happen between her and Anomen, he needed to know what he might be getting into. He was a priest of Helm, after all, and soon to be a knight; a child of Bhaal couldn't exactly be considered a suitable match for someone like him. _A suitable match? Hells, he'd be hard pressed to consider someone like me as anything but a foe!_ And if he didn't know until it was too late, it'd only make matters worse...

Enough. All they'd done was talk. He did seem to hold some admiration for her, that much was true, but there was a long way to go between simple talk and actual courtship. It'd all probably come to nothing, anyway, so there was no point in worrying.

"Is something amiss, my lady?"

She looked up at Anomen's concerned face. "No... nothing's wrong," she said. "Just a bit lost in thought."

"You are certain?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I wish it'd rain soon, though," she said, and gestured at the clouds.

Anomen glanced upwards. "Hm. You may have your wish by nightfall, my lady."

"I hope so. It's a bit too hot for my tastes right now."

"Indeed, the summers in Athkatla are not entirely pleasurable," he said, and sat down beside her. "Nevertheless, I have a fondness for such days."

"Oh?"

"When I was a child, days such as this meant fewer chores and more reasons to be outside, away from my father's house. At my leisure, I often took my sister with me to one of the many parks in the government district. She would amuse herself with pebbles and colourful flowers, and I would reenact great campaigns with figurines I had made from wood or soft metal." He smiled. "Some of my dearest memories arise from those times."

"It almost never got this hot at Candlekeep," Ember said, and told him about one of the times it did; Imoen had talked her into bathing in the large fountain in front of the library, and they had both been splashing around in it when a big, important-looking delegation arrived. "Ulraunt was incensed, and at first Gorion looked angry too, but as soon as we all were dismissed from Ulraunt's office, he burst out laughing. And the next day, he took us to a large pond, about a half hour away from the keep, and showed us how to swim."

"My mother taught me that particular skill many summers ago, on a rare trip to Esmeltaran," Anomen said. "Candlekeep is located upon a cliff, is it not?"

Ember nodded. "That's why we couldn't swim in the ocean; anyone who tried would have been crushed to bits by the waves."

"A most efficient defense system."

"And a pretty one, too. I'd often sit and watch the ocean from my window when I should have been studying," she said with a small grin. "Especially at sunset." She was in the middle of describing how it looked on calm evenings, when the sea mirrored the sky and everything blazed with colours, when Yoshimo stirred from his chosen post.

"Oh great wizard," the Kara-Turan said, looking at Edwin, "is that not one of your kind standing across the street?"

Edwin glanced up, turned pale, and hurried around to the back of the house in such a rush that he left his all-important documents behind in a disarrayed pile. Across the street stood a grey-haired man in the robes of a Red Wizard. He was busy with yelling at a herb vendor, and had noticed neither Edwin nor his flight. Ember gathered up Edwin's documents, and the group watched the Red Wizard argue with, shout demands at, and then seemingly threaten the vendor.

Mazzy got to her feet. "We cannot allow him to harass that poor man!" she cried, but then the Red Wizard shrugged and walked away, leaving the herb vendor shaken but unscathed.

"Your friend has left," Yoshimo calmly called out to Edwin. The Thayvian returned, looking around nervously as he stepped out into the open again.

"Everything not well between you and the Red Wizards, Edwin?" Ember asked.

"That is none of your business!" Edwin snapped. "(Being saddled with the company of monkeys should be enough self-punishment for anyone!) Unhand my documents; I will not have them sullied by unworthy fingers!"

 _Street dust is better, I suppose?_ Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Ember handed the documents back to the wizard. He retreated back to his corner, purposefully ignoring the questioning glances from the rest of the group, and huffily started sorting through the 'clumsy, disrespectful, ignorant chaos' that he himself had created in his most treasured belongings.

"Would that Bayle returned before long," Anomen grumbled.

-.-.-

Gaelan Bayle arrived soon thereafter, and seemed pleasantly surprised to find the group assembled on his doorstep. "Coo! 'Tis grand to be seeing ye again, my friends." He ushered the group inside and looked expectantly at Ember. "Ye've gathered the fee for my associates, aye?"

She held up a bag of gemstones.

"Thank ye, my lady." Bayle accepted the bag from her, poured the contents out on his table, and started sorting through the jewels. "I'll jus' tally these, real quick like... aye, 'tis all here, an' a great an' good thing it is!"

"Where is Imoen?" Edwin asked impatiently.

"Not so quick, my friend -"

"I am not your friend. Where. Is. She?"

"Ye know perfectly well that she is in Spellhold," Gaelan Bayle said, "an' if ye want her to not be there, ye have to be patient. One doesn't simply walk into Spellhold, or we'd have set ye on the path there a long time ago."

"(Insolent -)"

"Quiet, Edwin," Ember said. "Bayle, you have our money now. How long must we wait for it to be put to use?"

"Oh, we'll be starting at once, my lady, but as for when we'll be ready to go... I can't tell ye. It could take a tenday, it could take two, it could take three."

Ember frowned. She'd known Bayle wouldn't produce Imoen from his hat like some cheap illusionist, but she'd hoped for a shorter delay than that before they could start the rescue. "Why the uncertainty? I thought your people had a plan in mind."

"They do, they do," Bayle said, "but parts o' the matter are beyond our control."

"Is there anything we could do to hasten the proceedings?" Mazzy asked.

"If there is, we'll let ye know. If there ain't, jus' wait until all is ready."

"How do we know you are to be trusted, thief?" Anomen asked.

Bayle grinned. "I'd say thieves' honour, but that don't mean aught to ye, does it?"

"Minsc wants to trust the little man. But if he tricks us..."

"Don't worry, good Minsc," Yoshimo said. "He would not dream of doing that, I am sure."

"Right ye are!" Bayle said. "We'll be parting now, but rest assured that we'll let ye know when to act. A fair evening to ye!"

-.-.-

Ember entered the Copper Coronet in decidedly lowered spirits. Even as she'd been aware there would be a delay, she hadn't actually been **aware** of it. They did have things to do, she reminded herself; there was Minsc's armour to commission, there were repairs to be made to much of their other gear, her own armour included, and with their newfound wealth, there was no reason for them to avoid the Adventurer's Mart any longer. Yes, the delay would, after all, give them time to become much better prepared for whatever they might encounter on their way to Imoen.

Still, she would have felt much better if only she knew how long this delay might turn out to be.

"Do not worry, my friend," she heard Mazzy tell Minsc. "Imoen will still be there when we are ready to go."

"But Boo wants her back today!"

"I know he does. Perhaps, if you show him how patient you can be, it'll be easier for Boo to wait?"

"Yes... that is good thinking. Minsc will do that."

Once inside the common room of the inn, they were greeted warmly by Hendak. "Our heroes grace us with their presence once again! A good day to you, my friends, and welcome back!"

"Ah, good Hendak!" Yoshimo called out. "Do you have any news for us?"

"Not much. Some more squabbling amongst the thieves, or so I heard, and some more priests have disappeared. Brother Keelan from the chapel nearby just up and vanished not five days ago."

"I know this Brother Keelan," Anomen said. "He has gone missing, has he? How very odd, indeed. This is not like the Keelan that I know."

"Aye, it is troubling," Hendak agreed. "But come, young Delryn, I have a letter here for you. It arrived the day before yesterday."

"A letter?"

Hendak reached into a shelf and pulled out a folded and sealed letter, which he handed to Anomen.

"It bears my father's seal," Anomen murmured as he opened the letter. "What reason could he have to write to me?"

He read, and his face turned white. "H-how can... Helm's Grace, this cannot be..."

Ember reached for his shoulder; he looked as if he were about to faint. "Anomen, what's wrong?"

He sank down on the closest chair, clutching the letter with stiff fingers. "My sister," he whispered. "She... she has been murdered."


	33. Chapter 104: Family Matters

**Chapter 104: Family Matters**

"Murdered?"

"I... I must to my father's house."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"It is not... I should not burden -"

"Anomen, I'm coming with you."

"Minsc and Boo will come also. Boo says you should have an extra guard, and two guards is even better, especially if one of them is Minsc."

"...Very well. But no others."

"Go, my friends. Yoshimo and I will tend to matters here."

-.-.-

Anomen took Ember and Minsc to the outskirts of the government district, an area filled with parks, alleys, and the homes of the Athkatlan nobility. They stopped in front of a large house that looked as if it had once been a grand mansion, but now it bore signs of decay; several roof shingles had fallen off, and at least two of the large glass windows had been boarded up. The wooden coat of arms that adorned the door was badly worn, and its paint had cracked and peeled so much that Ember could barely make out the same entwined rings that decorated Anomen's shield.

A single guard in faded livery stood in front of the door. He greeted Anomen, advised him that Lord Cor was in an even fouler mood than usual, and opened the door for them.

"Thank you," Anomen mumbled to the guard. He paused in front of the door and glanced hesitantly at Ember and Minsc, then seemed to steel himself, and led them inside. They passed through a wide hallway that didn't appear to have been cleaned for some time, turned left into another corridor, and halted in front of a half-open door which appeared to lead into a dark kitchen. Anomen peered carefully inside, and swallowed nervously.

"My father is within," he said quietly.

Ember glanced carefully through the door jamb and saw an elderly man in the kitchen, sitting at a table and staring at a collection of opened wine bottles that stood upon it. He looked as though he might have been handsome once, but any strong features he might have had were now obscured by tangled grey hair, a face full of stubble, slackened jowls, and rheumy eyes. It was only with some effort that Ember managed to recognize Anomen's eyes and jawline in the man's face; they had probably also once been of similar height, but with the way the father slouched over the table, she imagined he'd stand an inch or two shorter than the son.

Anomen carefully propped his shield up against the wall, and removed his helmet. "Please, wait here," he said. Ember nodded, and stepped away from the door.

"The prodigal son returns," a hoarse voice rang out as Anomen entered the kitchen, "heir to his mother's foolishness as always. Well, lemme ask you: how far have you roamed, son, running away from me?"

"Speak not of my mother, drunkard," came Anomen's response. "You were never worthy of being her husband."

"Yet I was, and your father as well. Never forget that, boy! Your mother would still be alive if you children weren't such a handful."

"Shut your mouth, father. We've had this conversation before and I've not the patience to listen to it again."

"You will listen to what ever I choose to tell you, Anomen. Respect your father, knightling! I am still the man of this family and you will obey me!" The words were punctuated by the sound of a fist striking a table.

"Yes, father," Anomen said, quietly enough to give Ember some trouble overhearing it, "I lost my temper and I apologize."

Beside Ember, Minsc shifted impatiently; she placed a hand on his elbow in a gesture of restraint. They'd do Anomen no good by interfering at this point.

"It took you long enough to get here," Anomen's father grumbled inside the kitchen. "It wouldn't hurt you to come and see your father now and again."

"Father, where is Moira, your daughter? What happened to her?"

"Idiot boy! She's dead! Murdered by the Calimshite fiend!"

"Saerk Farrahd? Why would he kill her? She has nothing to do with your enmity."

"Do you understand nothing? He killed her because he could! It was not enough for him to take my business; he had to take my Moira too."

"Where were the guards? Why was she not protected?"

"The guards left months ago. I had no money to pay them with. Soon I will lose my house as well. Saerk has taken all of it... all of your mother's and sister's things..."

"He did not take it, father." There was despair in Anomen's voice. "YOU lost it... you lost it..."

"I lost it because you abandoned your family. If you hadn't run away, Moira would still be alive. You should have been here to protect her! To save her from the brigands! Never forget that!"

"I am sorry. I... I did not know..."

Minsc shifted again; as tempted as Ember was to let him go inside, she forced herself to hold them both back.

"It is too late to save her but your work is not yet finished, son."

"What can be done? Moira is dead."

"She can be avenged, Anomen. Saerk and his son must die. It is the only way that Moira's spirit can be at rest."

There was a brief silence from the kitchen.

"I must see Moira's remains first, father. It will take but a moment."

"Go then. She was cleansed on the pyre. Her ashes are with her mother's."

Accompanied by the sound of glassware clinking against glassware, Anomen emerged from the kitchen. He gestured to Ember and Minsc to follow him, and led them back to the main hallway, where they passed through an arched door and into a walled-in, paved courtyard. A pond that had grown murky with weeds lay in the middle of the courtyard, and a small shrine, bearing the symbol of Helm, stood in a corner. Anomen walked unsteadily across the courtyard and picked up one of two funeral urns that lay inside the shrine. He held it gently in his hands, staring as blindly at it as his father had stared at his wine bottles.

Ember placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Anomen," she said quietly.

"I am well worried by what has gone on in this place," Anomen said in a surprisingly level voice. His hands trembled as they cradled the urn, and his face was very pale, but there were no tears in his eyes. "Though the choice seems clear and right, I am hesitant to take it." He carefully returned the urn to the shrine. "Killing for the purpose of revenge is murder by the tenets of the Order. Yet surely if Saerk killed my sister I must avenge her. I know not what I should do."

"To decide between justice and honour! Oh, it is a conundrum that would tie even Boo up in knots," Minsc cried. "I do not envy you. The decisions of Minsc and Boo are usually easier than this."

"What do **you** want to do?" Ember asked.

"What I want?" Anomen laughed harshly. "What **I** want? I want to locate the fiend responsible for this. I wish to lay my hands upon him, and take my righteous vengeance from him! I want him to pay with his blood for what he did to my poor, innocent sister! I want him to feel my pain, to know my wrath, and I want to see him dead and rotting for this deed!" He drew a deep, shuddering breath. "But I cannot do that, can I? Such an act would surely lead to chaos. And... I do not know that Saerk truly is to blame."

"To be honest," Ember said, "I'm not sure that I trust your father's version of events. Everything he said seemed to be coloured by his hatred of this Saerk."

"They have always been bitter rivals, and mortal enemies," Anomen said. "My father's revenge be damned! I have sworn to uphold the law and unlike him, I shall do so. Honour may bind me to find my sister's killer, but duty binds me to see that justice is done unto him. It is not my place to take revenge."

Ember squeezed his hand. "I think you've made the right decision."

"I have lived under the bitterness of my father's spirit my entire life," Anomen murmured. "It has tainted me to the point where I am willing to partake in it." He reached out to the urns and gently touched each of them. "My lady mother and my sister deserve better from me. Come, let us return to my father."

Once again, Ember and Minsc waited outside the kitchen while Anomen talked with his father. As soon as Anomen entered, his father embarked upon a diatribe about how Anomen should gird his heart and slay his sister's murderer.

"Nay, father," Anomen said.

"Nay?"

"Killing Saerk in vengeance would be murder as surely as my sister's death was. We must take these charges to the magistrate."

"You fool boy! The magistrate will do nothing," his father shouted. "She is a pawn of Saerk!"

"Bylanna Ianulin is a good and noble woman. You said this yourself before you slipped into the foul clutch of the drink."

"You dishonour Moira's memory! You would allow the killer of your sister to go free? You are despicable! You are an insect!"

"I will not allow him to go free! He shall be taken before the courts if he is indeed the one who murdered my sister."

"How can you doubt such a thing, boy? Saerk is the killer!"

"Do you have proof, father?"

"He has taken everything else from me! Killing Moira would complete my defeat!"

"Aye, now I see. Such has always been the case in this household. This is about you and only you." Anomen's voice dripped with disgust. "Your daughter's death means nothing beyond how it affects your pride and your comfort."

"Boy, you've fallen in with evil! Step back from the line and honour your family before it's too late!"

"I will not, father. I suggest no evil. I suggest the lawful path."

"Again I say, obey me, Anomen!"

"I have obeyed you all my life and received naught but bitterness in return. I shall take this matter to the magistrate, as the law requires."

His father's voice dropped to a growl. "If you step out that door, then you must never come within again."

"Father, don't -"

"Shut your mouth! If you leave now you are forever banished from this place. You will be cast from this family and become a nameless dog, not fit to cower at my feet!"

After a moment's silence, Anomen spoke. "I have been cowering at your feet for all my life," he said coldly, and stepped out of the room. He picked up his shield and violently threw it into the kitchen; it landed on the floor with a deafening clatter.

"Goodbye, father," Anomen called out to him. "Perhaps I shall see you again before you drink yourself to death."

"You are nothing, boy! Nothing!"

"Let us go," Anomen said to Ember and Minsc between clenched teeth. He hurried towards the front door, not once halting or looking back.

The screams of rage followed them all the way out of the house.

-.-.-

The magistrate, Bylanna Ianulin, was about to leave her offices for the evening when the trio arrived, but she gracefully took the time to speak with them. She was very sympathetic to Anomen's plight, and could tell them that the murder was already under investigation. Unfortunately, she could also tell them that the investigation was at a standstill. There had been no evidence, there were no witnesses, no dagger or similar murder weapon had been found, and there were no stolen items to trace. There was nothing to conclusively link Saerk Farrahd - or anyone else - to the murder.

"But... is there nothing you can do?" Anomen asked in dismay. "Surely you know that Saerk is responsible!"

"I know of your family's feud with the merchant," the magistrate said, "but a motive is not enough without witnesses or evidence. The rule of law must prevail... surely you understand."

"There must be something that can be done! Allow me to assist with the investigation; I may, perchance, be able to uncover something your people have missed!"

The magistrate gave him a stern look. "No, Lord Anomen, I will not allow it. You are too close to the matter, and might ...err in your judgement. I am sorry, I truly am."

"As am I," Anomen muttered.

He did not say another word as they took their leave of the magistrate, nor did he say anything on the way back to the Copper Coronet. Once there, he only paused long enough to ask Mazzy which rooms they had been allocated, then headed upstairs, leaving Ember to field the questions about what they'd learned and where Anomen's shield had gone. As briefly as possible, she explained about Anomen's interview with his father, how he'd been cast out for refusing to go after Saerk, and how the magistrate had been unable to aid them. Minsc contributed by informing them all that Boo did not like Anomen's father.

"How terrible," Mazzy said. "To not know where to turn... hopefully, the gods will punish the guilty even if the courts do not."

"It's been my experience that some crimes never end in punishment," Yoshimo said, uncharacteristically dourly, "by the law, by the gods, or otherwise."

"Be as that may, Anomen truly chose the most honourable path in this matter."

"You're more certain of that than he is, I think," Ember said. "We should go upstairs; I don't think he should be left alone right now."

As if to prove her point, a loud crash came from upstairs, from the direction of their rooms. Ember, Mazzy, and Minsc exchanged quick glances, and ran up the stairs.

-.-.-

Yoshimo watched in silence as most of his companions hurried upstairs. His hand strayed to his beltpouch, and his thoughts strayed to his memories.

Once, in jest, he had called young Delryn a samurai of the West. But no samurai would have chosen as Anomen had.

He opened the flap of his beltpouch and gently pulled out the piece of ivory that lay within it. He didn't look at the portrait that was painted upon it - there was no need; he had long since memorized every stroke of the brush - but instead just let it rest in his hands. As it always did, touching the ivory comforted him.

"I would never let down my kin as you have," he murmured at the ceiling, "but then... you are not I."


	34. Chapter 105: Hell Hath No Fury

**Chapter 105: Hell Hath No Fury**

With a triumphant cry, Edwin leaped up from his desk.

At last, at long last, the secrets of the Nether Scroll had revealed themselves to him!

It was all there, written in the arcane symbols, the ancient lettering, the short (and, to Edwin's tastes, insipid) verses that were scattered throughout the manuscript, and now, with the final page he'd deciphered, it was all clear.

The scroll contained a spell of transformation, both basic and sophisticated. It was not unlike the transformation of mage to lich, but as far as Edwin could tell, it was without some of the more unpleasant connotations of lichdom, such as the necessity of dying to complete the change. No, there did not appear to be a single fragment of necromantic magic in the spell, and yet it would grant a change so true, so profound, so powerful...

Edwin closed his mouth. (It would not do to drool on the scroll like some unwashed, ignorant peasant.)

Whatever the change might be, it was perfectly clear that the creators of the scroll considered it to be a valuable lesson for any who dared seek out such magics - a lesson on a scale that would humble even the proudest mind.

Edwin's mind reeled at the implications. (The ramifications!)

So, Thay had sent the mighty Degardan to find him, had they? Hah! Degardan's prowess would be nothing compared to the might and skill of Edwin Odesseiron! The Zulkirs themselves would be like mere cattle! The Cowled Wizards, dust beneath his feet! Nothing would stand in his way after this! He would show them all! He would -

Several loud crashing noises came from somewhere just outside his room.

 _Degardan!_

Rather than let himself waste time with considering how Degardan could have found him so quickly, or why he would announce his arrival in such a fashion, Edwin let his instincts take over.

-.-.-

Water seeped out from under the door of the room Anomen was in. Minsc pulled the door open, all but ripping it off its hinges in the process.

On the other side of the doorway, the smashed remnants of an ewer and washbasin of glazed stoneware lay in the middle of a puddle. Some of the water pooled along the edge of an overturned table that was missing one leg; that leg lay on a dry part of the floor, with a crack running through more than half its length. Anomen stood behind the table with his back to the door, venting his anger on a chair that now bore a strong resemblance to kindling. He attacked the wreck with his bare hands, repeatedly smashing it against the floor. Each blow was echoed by a set of small ripples on the surface of the puddle. Anomen's war hammer lay carelessly thrown in the corner; distantly, Ember wondered if the walls would still have been standing if he'd used that instead.

"Arvoreen, have mercy," Mazzy exclaimed.

Anomen spun around, his face livid and his eyes black with rage, and seemed to struggle to restrain himself from throwing the ruined chair at the intruders. "Leave me!" he bellowed.

Minsc instantly pushed the door shut again. "Boo knows what this is," he said sadly.

"I know," Ember told him, and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "I want to try to talk with him. Will you wait here with Mazzy?"

"But he -"

"Please, Minsc. He hasn't gone berserk. I won't be in danger."

He glanced unhappily at her. "You must promise to be careful!"

"I promise," Ember said.

Without another word, Minsc stepped aside and let her enter.

-.-.-

A minute or so later, when Degardan still hadn't come charging into the room to seize him, Edwin crept out from under his desk and looked with dismay at his precious documents, now scattered all over the floor. A few more crashes came from outside, and his dismay turned to anger.

What kind of decrepit simian would **dare** to disrupt his work (his finest hour, at that!) with such a racket?!

He stomped across the room and shoved the door open. The Rasheman imbecile and the aggravating halfling were standing in front of the cleric's door, talking quietly about something that was bound to be of no significance whatsoever, and not lifting a finger to end the racket.

"What is this nonsense?!" Edwin demanded.

"Oh! Edwin," the halfling said, acknowledging his presence in her usual sour manner. The Rasheman oaf scowled at Edwin and positioned himself in front of the cleric's door, evidently posturing as a guard with his arms crossed and an insipid frown on his face.

"Well?" Edwin asked the halfling.

"It's Anomen."

Another crash came from behind the cleric's door. Edwin took some pride in the fact that it barely startled him at all, while the bumbling idiot cried out that his witch was in danger and turned towards the door, no doubt to intending to break it down with his bare hands (or possibly with his thick skull).

"No, Minsc," the halfling said. "She's fine. Let her handle it." The overgrown idiot stopped just short of slamming his fist against the wood.

"Anomen, is it?" Edwin asked in his calmest voice. "Tell me, diminutive one: what reason could that ignorant buffoon **possibly** have to disturb my moment of triumph like this?!"

The halfling gave him an incredulous look. "Don't tell me you didn't hear -"

"I most certainly did not! My mind has been preoccupied with far more important matters than the concerns of a hapless Helmite! I, the great Edwin Odesseiron, have successfully translated the Nether Scroll, and I am but an incantation away from power far beyond your meager imagination!"

-.-.-

Anomen was facing the window; Ember couldn't tell whether or not he was actually looking out of it. Most of the broken chair lay on the floor at his feet. His breath, rapid and shallow, was the only sound in the room.

"Anomen?" she said quietly. He did not respond.

She moved towards him, taking care not to step in the large puddle, and gently touched his shoulder. He flinched away from her. "Did I not tell you to leave me be?" he snapped.

"Yes, you did," she said.

He said nothing.

She waited.

His hands began to tremble.

"How is this justice?!" he roared in a surge of anger. "My sister lies cold and unavenged, and the murderer remains free to gloat over his victory!"

"But it might not have been Saerk," Ember said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

He turned to face her. "Who but he could have committed such an act?" he demanded.

"A burglar, perhaps?"

"Moira had naught that was worth stealing!"

"Would a burglar necessarily have known that?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering. "You forget that none of her belongings were missing," he said. "Aye, a burglar would have taken what little there was ere he fled, would he not? And is it not well known, amongst nobles and thieves alike, that House Delryn has nothing of value, that its possessions are long since gone; that my father has DRIVEN US TO RUIN?!" He grabbed the broken chair and flung it at the wall with all his might; the force of the impact shattered what was left of it, showering the room with splintered pieces of wood. "I defied my father for what I thought was right, the drunken bastard cast me out of the family for what I thought was right, and my reward is that I can do nothing! I've sought out the law, as I should, but the law will not aid me! How is this to be borne? I cannot let her murder go unanswered..."

"We could ask Bayle -"

"I should confront Saerk," Anomen said, suddenly calm.

-.-.-

"I suggest restraint," the narrow-minded halfling said. "It's dangerous to meddle with magic that you know nothing about."

"Yes, listen to little Mazzy," the giant oaf added. "If you turn yourself into a lot of small Red Wizard pieces, it will be your own fault, and Minsc and Boo will not help to gather you up again!"

"(Uninformed fools!) What would imbeciles of your caliber know of such things?" Edwin bellowed. " **I** have prepared for this moment all my life, and lifetimes before! This **will** be mine!" Retreating back to his own room, he slammed the door shut, hurried across the room to the desk, and sorted through the scattered documents until he found his cherished prize.

Unlimited power! Knowledge unimaginable! (And who deserved it more than he?)

Feeling more excited than even when he'd first learned how to conjure a fireball, Edwin began to cast the Netherese spell.

-.-.-

"Do you not see? A direct challenge may force him to -"

"Anomen, he hates you and you hate him! If you walk into his house to confront him, especially in such a mood, how will it not end with one or both of you dead?"

"What would **you** know of my mood?!" Anomen reached for the second chair in the room, no doubt to give it the same treatment he'd given the first; Ember seized his wrist with both hands and held him back. He pulled his arm back in an attempt to wrench it free from her grasp, but she tightened her grip, and all he accomplished was to pull her closer.

"Listen to me," she growled, her face only inches away from his. "I know what you told me at Moira's grave. And I know what I see in your face right now. You want to find someone, anyone, who you can blame for this, and make them pay. Can you deny that?"

He glared sullenly at her.

"You'd go to Saerk's home, and you'd accuse him of this murder, and you'd tell yourself that you would only act fairly," she continued. "But if he were to deny it, you'd regard him as a liar. If he were to get angry or mock you, you'd see it as an attempt to hide something. You'd go in, ready to see **anything** as an admission of guilt and an excuse for you to attack him, and then you'd be at his throat and you wouldn't stop until he lay dead and broken at your feet or his guards killed you, and even that possibility wouldn't hold you back, because all you want right now is to spill Saerk's blood!" She could see it in his eyes, clear as day, and part of her ached to help him do it. "Am I right?!"

He stopped struggling against her. Colour drained from his face. "I am so full of hate I can barely control it," he whispered. "My heart cries out for vengeance, even when I know I should not act without proof. No matter what the circumstances indicate..." He looked her in the eyes. "Please, my lady... Did I do the right thing? Should the dictates of the law truly overcome my duty to my family?"

"How would you feel if you were to kill Saerk and then found him to be innocent after the fact?"

"Aye... aye, that would be a stain to my honour I surely could not bear. But still..."

"Would Moira have wanted you to commit murder for her?"

He looked away. "Nay, she would not."

"There is no form of vengeance that will bring her back," Ember said quietly.

Anomen's knees buckled, and he sank to the floor.

-.-.-

Edwin was confused. He had cast the spell, and had been enveloped in a quite impressive sphere of blindingly white light as he did so, but... nothing seemed to have happened. He'd expected to feel the wisdom of the ages flow through him, but his mind felt just like usual.

How could this be? His chest tightened with sudden panic. He couldn't possibly have misinterpreted the incantation! (Or could he?) He forced himself to inhale sharply; it felt difficult to breathe, but he needed to calm down, mentally walk himself through his actions, and then...

He glanced downwards.

Something was decidedly different about his chest.

He touched his face. His impeccably groomed beard had been replaced with smooth skin.

"This is bad," he muttered nervously in a voice that was best described as a somewhat nasal mezzosoprano.

His nerve broke.

"Blasphemy!" he shrieked. "An outrage against nature and order! This is beyond treachery!"

The door burst open, and the halfling and the giant fool rushed in. They halted after a few steps.

The halfling stared wide-eyed at him. "Oh, Edwin," she said exasperatedly.

"Boo does not understand," the Rasheman fool said. "Where has Edwin gone, and who is this woman who wears his clothes?"

"(What?!) How dare you mock me, you stone-headed oaf!"

"You sound very much like Edwin... oh, Minsc knows! You must be Edwin's sister!"

"Silence!" Edwin screamed, on the verge of tears. "I will not stand for this... this... this is shameful and revolting! A disaster!"

"Shameful, disaster, whatever you wish to call it," the halfling said, "you have nobody to blame for this but yourself. Did I not warn you?"

Edwin refused to acknowledge her remark. Even if there might be a minuscule possibility that she might have been correct, it could be nothing but accidental! "(Ignorant simians, all of them,)" he snarled, and tried to adjust his robes, which felt very tight around his upper chest (which really didn't look that bad, upon closer consideration...)

Wait.

What about...

He nervously reached for a lower area of his body.

"(Oh no,)" he moaned. "(No. NO!)"

It was too much to bear.

Edwin fainted.

-.-.-

Outside, it finally began to rain. The rapid patter of the large drops that broke against the roof of the Copper Coronet filled its upper rooms with a vibrant, almost aggressive sound, which was soon accompanied by loud crashes of thunder. Walls and windows creaked softly with relief as gusts of fresh, cool air flowed around and through them. Small rivulets trickled across rooftops and down streets like tears on a cheek.

Inside, Ember sat on the damp floor beside Anomen. Humming a quiet lullaby, she held him in her arms and gently rocked him back and forth while he, for the first time since receiving the news, wept for his lost sister.


	35. Chapter 106: Negotiations

**Chapter 106: Negotiations**

 _What a night._

When Ember finally left Anomen's room after he fell into an exhausted sleep, she wanted nothing more than to be alone. Their conversation - their confrontation - had been emotionally draining, and not only for the sake of his grief; she had tasted his rage, hot and murderous, and it'd been hard to keep it from resonating too much in her.

Few things could have been less welcome than the news that Edwin had managed to turn himself into a Red Wizardess.

Instead of getting a chance to meditate and let the tension in her bleed out into the storm, Ember spent the remainder of the evening with Edwin. She tried at first to cure him, then to calm him down; both were in vain. The only thing that changed was her own mood, which steadily worsened.

"I refuse to believe this!" Edwin shrieked. "There must be **something** you can do!"

"No, Edwin," Ember said, wearily rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I told you, it is not a disease, not a curse, and not something I can dispel. Whatever it might be, it's beyond my province."

"What kind of druid are you? How can you not identify the nature of this wretched condition?! I must have a cure!"

"Do not try my patience, Edwin," she warned him. "It's almost midnight; we've all had a long day, and most of us weren't asking for it. Get some rest, and we'll get help tomorrow."

"I will not stand for this! Fetch me the cleric! He -"

"Disturb him and I'll kill you."

Their eyes met. Edwin's mouth snapped shut, and he turned very pale.

"Tomorrow," Ember said, and left the room.

-.-.-

The storm passed in the night, and the following day brought clear skies and clear air. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted - or washed away, as it were - from the city, and everything seemed brighter and pleasanter than the day before.

None of this was of any consolation to Edwin. Ember and Yoshimo took him to several temples in search of a cure, but none could help him; the only priest in the city that could even tell that Edwin had not been born a woman was the Loremaster of Oghma. The spell had become part of Edwin, the Loremaster explained, and not even the church of Oghma knew how to undo such a thing. As expected, Edwin was furious, and he railed loudly about the horridness of it all until Ember glared pointedly at him, after which he sulked in silence. When they returned to the inn that evening, he immediately went upstairs and locked himself in his room.

The other half of the group was sitting in the common room, taking their supper. Anomen sat beside Mazzy and Minsc. He looked haggard and tired, but also calm, and he appeared to be eating at least a little of the food in front of him.

Ember took a seat beside Anomen. "How are you doing?" she asked.

"Better than yestereve, my lady," he said, and managed a faint smile. She smiled back and gently squeezed his hand.

"I see that Edwin did not fare well," Mazzy remarked.

Ember shook her head. "The spell's part of him now. If he's lucky, it'll wear off somehow, because nobody we found can do anything about it."

"Foolish wizard," Mazzy sighed.

"Tell me, my friends," Yoshimo said as he seated himself between Minsc and Mazzy, "was your day any more fruitful than ours?"

"Oh, yes!" Minsc said happily. "We found many good things, and we found the smith, and soon Minsc will have armour worthy of the greatest of heroes!"

"Cromwell will have Minsc's dragon armour ready in a tenday or so," Mazzy elaborated. "We went to the Adventurer's Mart as well, and we managed to get several decent pieces of equipment without spending too much."

"Ah yes, the Mart," Yoshimo said. "They may well have a girdle of gender there, no?"

Mazzy gave him a wry grin. "I inquired, and they did not have any."

The list of gear that they had been able to get was quite impressive. There was a large hide tunic and a pair of heavy leather bracers for Minsc, which would serve him well enough - and far better than his old, ruined armour could - for the next tenday. There were new cloaks for everyone; made from tightly woven fabric and lightly enchanted, the cloaks would keep out both rain and sun, and would even offer some added protection in combat. Anomen had gone with Minsc and Mazzy to the Mart, and they had bought him a serviceable new shield. There were also a few pieces of enchanted jewelry, some extra potions, and many replacements for the worn parts of their travel gear, such as bedroll blankets, waterskins, and cooking utensils.

The group was busily discussing other items they might purchase from the Adventurer's Mart, such as a strength enhancing belt or some spellscrolls for their sulking wizard, when a woman in a black cloak approached their table.

"Hello, friends," the woman said, "might I have a word? I would impart a fine bit of business your way."

"You have my attention," Ember said, looking carefully at the woman's pale face. There was something vaguely unsettling about her. "What might this business be?"

"Well, truthfully it is not for me to say," the woman said. "At least, not in full measure. My mistress has watched you for a time, though she is not the only one. She would have words with you, and wishes to offer a different solution to your ...problem."

"I have many problems."

"Perhaps, but one of them is foremost in your mind, is it not?"

 _Imoen._ "Who is this mistress of yours?"

"One who is worthy of your trust. If you feel worthy of hers, come with me and let her speak her offer."

Ember looked at the others. Mazzy and and Anomen seemed to share some of her apprehension, but Yoshimo looked intrigued.

"I see no harm in hearing her offer," Yoshimo said, and smiled politely at the woman. "After all, our other avenues have been a disappointment so far, no?"

"An alternate solution might, perhaps, prove to be preferable," Anomen murmured uncertainly.

"We will listen," Ember said, "but I make no promises."

"I ask none," the woman said. "Come with me."

-.-.-

Leaving Edwin where he was, the group left the inn with the woman, following her through darkened streets across a large part of the city until they reached the outskirts of the main graveyard. Another woman was waiting there, wrapped in a shimmering cloak of black silk. Her face was as white as death, and her hair, which was worn short and swept back, was as dark as her cloak. They halted about twenty paces away from her.

"You have arrived," the woman in the cloak purred. Her voice was playful, almost childlike, but there was something in it that made Ember think of shattered glass. " I am Bodhi, and I greet you warmly."

"Warm you may be, but you are in a very cold place," Ember said sharply. "Was this necessary?"

"There are a number of reasons why we must meet here, only a few of which you need to worry about. Specifically, I have asked you here because we are unlikely to be overheard; I would rather that your employers not know of this conversation." Bodhi looked at Ember with large, dark, cold eyes. "You have, no doubt, questioned the intent of your employers on occasion? If you haven't, then you should."

Ember didn't reply.

"You work for the Shadow Thieves, on the pretense they will help locate your missing companion, Imoen. Yes, they are Shadow Thieves, and yes, they are as nefarious as you have probably heard. You have paid them a fortune in gold, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing but empty words. I would offer an alternative. I would help you find Imoen, and leave you richer rather than poorer for your efforts."

"It sounds like you've been spying on me. Why should I trust you?"

"If you question me, why do you trust your current employers? Are you certain they are more deserving?"

 _Whatever else I might say about Gaelan Bayle, the very sight of_ _ **him**_ _does not send chills down my spine._

"Be wary, my lady," Anomen murmured in Ember's ear. She glanced at him, and nodded slightly; she didn't believe Bodhi meant them well any more than she believed she was something natural.

"What, exactly, are you asking of us?" Yoshimo asked.

"There is a monopoly in this town, and I intend to break it," Bodhi said. Her voice hardened. "I will ask you to weaken the 'resources' of the Shadow Thieves. I am not so vain as to think them easily destroyed, but many of their members will join with me. Support me, and you will revel in the destruction of the largest criminal organization south of Waterdeep, though the big bad thieves have been rather soft as of late. And rest assured, I will help you find Imoen."

"Why you would do this?" Ember asked.

"You are within their structure, so you are valuable. I could stage open aggression, but that would spill much blood, and I always hate when that happens." Bodhi grinned; her teeth were perfectly white and looked quite sharp. "This will be a peaceful arrival, relatively speaking."

"That's not what I meant. Why would you help me find Imoen?"

"We have converging goals; I seek access to Spellhold for my own reasons. I can offer you this incentive with no added difficulty for myself, and in working together, we may both attain our goals sooner."

"I see," Ember said, her mind racing. As little as she enjoyed working for the Shadow Thieves, she knew their existence served a purpose. Destroying them would be madness, and even more so if it were done to let a creature like Bodhi take their place. And this was all too convenient; could it really be purely coincidental that she and Bodhi were trying to reach the same place at the same time? _She could be in league with Irenicus, for all I know!_

...She could be, couldn't she?

"All you have to do is choose your allegiance: the masters you serve, or the Mistress that will let you destroy them."

Ember shook her head. There was no decision for her to make. "I choose the devil I know."

All pretense of pleasantness left Bodhi's face. "That is... unfortunate," she growled. "Very well, you may go. You have made an enemy here today, and I will face you on my own terms when the inevitable time comes." She pulled her cloak hood over her head and hurried down an unlit path, disappearing into the shadows along with her servant.

-.-.-

After the meeting with Bodhi - whom Mazzy and Anomen believed to be undead, and most likely a vampire - Ember and her companions decided to leave Athkatla for a while. There was nothing to be done for Imoen until Gaelan Bayle's group came through with their promises, and, as Yoshimo put it, the climate in the city appeared to be souring. By going to Trademeet, they'd be able to find different gear than in Athkatla, and they'd also be able to ask Cernd and the druids about Edwin's condition. It was soon settled that they'd leave in the morning; as a courtesy, Ember and Minsc sought out Bayle to tell him they'd be gone a while.

As it turned out, doing that wasn't as simple as just telling him on his doorstep. Bayle insisted that they come inside, and showed them into a small room that held a few chairs and a table. A single lit candle stood on the table, surrounded by a puddle of hardened wax drippings.

"So, ye be leaving town again?" Bayle grumbled, and gestured for them to sit down.

"For a tenday, yes," Ember said, taking a seat across from Bayle; Minsc remained standing by the door. "You did say we'd have to wait at least that long, after all."

Bayle leaned closer to her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Ye've been seen with dangerous folk," he said, "dangerous folk indeed. This person ye was seen with... have ye joined forces with her?"

"No, we haven't," she replied irritably. _Does he know about the meeting because he's been spying on Bodhi, or because he's been spying on us?_

"Be ye answerin' truthfully?" Bayle asked, and stared at Ember as if doing so would make the truth appear written across her forehead. It made her want to hit him.

"Do not stare like that, little man, or Boo will have to teach you manners!" Minsc growled, and stepped closer to Bayle. "Minsc and his witch will never tarnish their blades of justice by listening to the cold voices of evil, and you should know this already! Right, Boo?"

"And if you don't believe us," Ember added angrily, "you can go ask the Truesword of Arvoreen and the squire of the Order of the Radiant Heart that just happen to travel with us. See what they say about the matter!"

Bayle looked at them both. His expression softened. "It is good to see that there be those who tell the truth, even here in this city," he said, sounding relieved. "I am happy that ye have not joined the wench. Be wary o' her, me lady. She's a dangerous one."

"I gathered as much," Ember said, far from mollified. "And now she's declared herself to be my enemy."

"Ye chose right, me lady. I know ye have no love for us, but lesser evils and all that, aye?" He grinned at her. "We will get ye to Spellhold. Ye have me word."

"I want more than your word, Bayle. I want you to do something for us."

He gave her a curious look. "What is it ye want? If it be the moon from the sky, or a seat on the Council, I can't help ye."

"It's nothing your friends shouldn't be able to handle," she said. "I want to know who killed Moira Delryn."

-.-.-

Once she and Minsc were out on the street again, Ember allowed herself a quiet scream of frustration.

Hadn't Edwin and Bodhi been enough for one day?!

Still, Bayle had agreed to help, for free, and she had managed to refrain from either telling or showing him exactly what she thought of him and his suspicions, so she supposed she should consider the meeting a success even though it'd left her even more aggravated than before.

Minsc patted her shoulder consolingly. "Come, little Ember. Friends and heroes are waiting for us," he said, and nudged her in the direction of the Copper Coronet. Wordlessly, she followed his lead.

 _What a day._


	36. Chapter 107: Words Unspoken

**Chapter 107: Words Unspoken**

Very little had changed at the druid grove during its first month under Cernd's leadership, and what changes there were seemed only to be for the better. The forest animals had reverted to their natural behaviour, and most of the trolls that'd plagued the area had left. Some of the swampier areas had dried up in the summer heat, and there were areas where shallow ponds had been baked into crackled sheets of dry mud, but other parts of the forest were cool and fresh, sheltered from the searing heat of the sun by the dense, dark green canopies of the sweetmaple trees. The grove was now what it should be, Ember mused as she walked along a quiet stream that ran through the grove. It was no longer a source of strife, bent to the will of a fanatic, but a powerful haven of life that ebbed and flowed as the seasons changed around and within it; the true heart of the forest.

Edwin's shrill female voice cut through the tranquility like a rusty knife.

It had come as no surprise that the druids couldn't do anything for the wizard - especially after the elder druids discovered that Edwin's body now accepted womanhood as its natural state - but now it seemed that they had been Edwin's very last hope, and he refused to accept having that hope taken from him. Even now, he was pleading and arguing with Cernd and the elder druids, insisting that it was simply impossible for his current state to be considered even remotely natural. It was probably for the best that the group was moving on to Trademeet in the morning, Ember thought exasperatedly, or Edwin might manage to exhaust even Cernd's patience as he had her own.

She followed the stream out of the grove, away from the voices, and turned her thoughts to tomorrow afternoon. Once they arrived in Trademeet, they should visit the master blacksmith, she decided. Even though only Minsc's chainmail had been beyond salvaging, much of the rest of their armour could do with proper repairs and refurbishing, and she trusted the master would give them a decent price for the work. He might also have some leads on where to find the best pieces of equipment. It wasn't that their gear was truly lacking - her current armour and weapons were of far better quality than what she'd had before their capture - but there was no telling what they might have to face to reclaim Imoen, and she wanted to be prepared for the worst.

Her mood darkened as she recalled the encounter with Bodhi. The vampire, and her interest in their affairs, troubled her deeply, and the more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her that Bodhi might be associated with Irenicus. She could not imagine Bodhi wanting to go to Spellhold for any benevolent reason, and the reasons she had given for seeking Ember and her companions were far too weak. As Ember had pointed out to Gaelan Bayle, it was madness to think people such as Anomen or Mazzy would submit to such a master, and shared goals or not, there were bound to be hundreds of people in Athkatla who'd be far less unlikely hirelings. No, there had to be something personal behind Bodhi's offer of employment.

Or maybe Bodhi just thought a Bhaalspawn and whomever accompanied her would agree to anything?

What would Anomen think of a Bhaalspawn?

Ember stopped. She'd walked well out of earshot of the grove, and she had done it without noticing a single step she'd taken. Drawing a deep breath, she looked around, taking in the gentle bubbling of the stream, the coolness of the lush green foliage above and around her, the scent of the small flowers that grew in scattered clumps along the path. Nearby, a large rock jutted into the stream, disturbing the course of the water just enough to make it carve a small pool in the rock's wake.

The rock was smooth and fairly flat on top, with occasional flecks of moss, and felt cool and inviting to the touch. She clambered up on it and lay down on her belly. Resting her head on her folded arms, she gazed down into the ever-changing ribbon of water that flowed around the rock, and tried to let it wash away her jumbled thoughts.

-.-.-

"My lady?"

Blinking a couple times, Ember pulled out of her reverie and turned to look at Anomen. She didn't really feel any better than when she'd started. "Yes? Is something wrong?"

"I merely wished to tell you that supper will be ready ere long."

"Oh." Ember looked up at the sky. The glittering patch of sunlight through leaves was considerably lower than when she'd arrived at the rock. "I didn't realize it was so late. You didn't have to look for me long, I hope?"

"Not at all, I assure you. Some of the druids saw you follow the course of the stream earlier, and they suggested I do likewise," Anomen said, and offered her a hand as she got up from the rock. Once she sat fully upright, he looked closely at her face, and frowned. "You look tired, my lady. Is something troubling you?"

"It is nothing," she said. "Oh, all right, it's not nothing. It's just that... waiting to get to go and find Imoen is harder than I thought it'd be. My head keeps filling up with thoughts about her, and about Irenicus, and now about Bodhi, too. I try to remind myself that I can't do anything yet, but I don't seem to want to listen." She sighed. "I just hate not being able to act!"

"I understand," he said, and sat down on the rock beside her. "I know how sorely you miss her, and I can only admire the grace with which you have approached this trial of patience."

She gave him a faint smile. "I don't feel very gracious, or patient. But thank you." A withered flower husk lay on the rock between them. She picked up the husk, tossed it into the stream, and watched the water carry it away. "Imoen left home for my sake, did I ever tell you that?"

"Nay, my lady," he said, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"She did. She found me after Gorion was killed, helped me get my wits together, and then announced she was coming with me. I told her she shouldn't, but she wouldn't budge; she told me, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't about to let me go off on adventures while she stayed at home with the boring old monks." She chuckled softly. "Hells, if not for her, I'd probably have been eaten by a wolf within a day!"

"I was not aware that your foster father was killed; I knew only that he was deceased."

She drew a deep breath. "I was their real target," she started. "Someone wanted me dead, and sent assassins to Candlekeep. I was very young - well, actually, it was only a year ago this spring. It feels like much longer." He took her hand in his, and gave it a comforting squeeze. She gratefully returned the gesture. _Keep talking,_ she told herself. "I had no idea what was happening, but Gorion seemed to know something. He told me I wasn't safe there anymore, and we left that night. He had friends, from his old adventuring days, and was going to get them to help us. We were less than an hour out from Candlekeep when we were ambushed. He... he died so that I could run away."

"I am deeply sorry, my lady," he said quietly. "If I may ask... did you ever learn who it was that wanted your death?"

"It was... it turned out to be a relative. He was my half brother. He was... he..." She couldn't bring herself to say it. As much as Anomen needed to know the truth, and as much as she yearned to tell him everything, her dread of his reaction was still stronger. She'd managed to lead him to the water, as it were, but she still couldn't let him drink. "He thought I'd get in his way one day," she said bitterly.

"'Tis unfortunate that one cannot choose one's blood," Anomen muttered. "Please, my lady, it is plain to see that this topic pains you. Speak no more of it."

She nodded mutely.

He stood up and extended his hand to her. "If you would follow me, there is something I wish to show you."

-.-.-

"You see, my lady, I, too, have walked these woods this afternoon, in search of solitude. I wished to think upon some matters, and, to be frank, I wearied of the sound of Edwin's voice," Anomen explained as he led her further down the path past the rock they'd been sitting on. "I may not be as capable as some others when it comes to finding beauty in the vagaries of a forest, but I came upon a spot that caught my attention, and my senses, most thoroughly. I wished to share... ah, here we are."

He directed Ember's attention towards a dead tree that stood nearby. It had been struck by lightning, and what remained of its trunk was splintered and charred. A myriad of bell-shaped flowers, so vividly red that they almost glowed, surrounded its roots and grew out of its cracks. A rich floral scent, and the buzzing of numerous bees, filled the air.

"They're beautiful!" Ember exclaimed.

"Crimson rhodelias," Anomen murmured, and bent down to pick one of the flowers. "My mother would grow them in the courtyard every summer. Hers were cultivated, though, and no match for these."

"I've never seen anything like them! I've never even heard of them."

"Know them now, then, as most stately flowers. Their colour has the most fiery temperament, yet their aroma is sweet. The rhodelia is the flower of lovers, yet also the flower of vengeance and warriors; I was once told that they thrive upon battlefields." He held the flower out to her. Its petals were a brilliant crimson that brightened to gold at the base; the flower really did have a fire at its heart. "They reminded me of you."

She didn't know what to say.

He took her hand - her heart seemed to skip a beat at the touch - and placed the flower in her palm. "I... I have not yet thanked you for your assistance in Athkatla, my lady," he said, his voice low and slightly unsteady. "If not for your guidance, I fear I should have committed a grave error. Please, accept this blossom as a token of my gratitude, and... and of my esteem for you." He closed her fingers around the flower's stem.

"Thank you," she whispered, half hoping and half dreading that he'd say more.

He didn't speak. For what felt like an eternity, they stood there, his hands still wrapped around hers, until he suddenly let go of her. "I quite forgot, I was to fetch you for supper," he said hurriedly, his face almost as red as the flowers. "Come, my lady. Minsc caught a brace of rabbits, and Mazzy was preparing her specialty. I would not wish to have you eat it cold."

"Her rabbit stew is something special," Ember agreed, deciding that she was mostly relieved the moment had passed. After all, it was still too soon, and she had things that needed doing. She should try telling Mazzy first, perhaps, and see if that'd make it easier to get the words out of her mouth. "Speaking of Mazzy," she said as they started back up the path to their camp, "I've noticed that you and she haven't been quarreling lately."

"Indeed. She showed me great kindness and understanding recently," he said, "and I have come to understand her better in turn."

"I haven't mentioned how pleased I am that you're finally getting along, have I?"

He glanced at her, and smiled. "Not with words, my lady."


	37. Chapter 108: From the Mouths of Wizards

**Chapter 108: From the Mouths of Wizards**

Edwin's mood was abysmal.

The clerics in Trademeet had proven to be no more competent than the druids at the grove, who again were as inept as the collected clergy of Athkatla. And none of them treated his abhorrent condition with the seriousness it deserved! The druids had been worst of all; while the clerics would just tell him they could do nothing (without actually attempting to make an effort!), the filthy treehuggers had tried to use their absurd natural philosophy on him, and had actually dared to suggest that he try to accept his wretched state for the time being! (Preposterous!) They might see it as an unique perspective, but **he** had no use, and no desire, for something so irrelevant! He would have none of Cernd's insipid analogies about the great cycles of nature, the falling leaves, the blooming flowers, the stag casting aside its mantle (there was an insult somewhere in that prattle, wasn't there?), no acceptance of a false form, no simpering excuses from those incapable to understand even the most basic magics; what he needed was his own perspective, his own nature, his own BODY!

And the collection of imbeciles he travelled with were, of course, no help whatsoever. In his hour (day? tenday?) of need, they were out shopping... not for a cure, but for armour! Weapons! Paltry, insignificant sundries! So far, their efforts on his behalf had amounted to: Ember threatening him, Mazzy lecturing him, Anomen laughing hysterically at him upon first seeing his altered state, Minsc suggesting that he was his own sister (as if any mere sibling of his could possibly come close to comparing with his own splendor, whatever form it might appear in), and Yoshimo... Not content with merely grinning at the sight of Edwin, and addressing him with polite platitudes, the chauvinist pig had, that very morning, offered to help him let out the seams of his robe to accommodate the added 'bulk' in the upper chest area! (He should have brought the wrath of cleansing hellfire upon them all, and he should have done it a long time ago!)

Worst of all was the incessant, nagging thought that suggested a cure in Thay. He had very little doubt that the skills of his peers would be able to dispel this curse, but that only made the fact that he could never again seek them out all the more painful. (As desperate as his situation was, getting to die as a man was still not quite tempting enough.)

Edwin reached for his wine goblet. Before he could raise it, a hand seized his wrist. The hand was attached to an elf who wore a ridiculous grin on his face and far too much pomade in his hair.

"Ahhh... I have not seen you here, before, lovely creature," the elf said in a smarmy, insufferable tone. (Just who did he think he was addressing like that?!) "How do you do?"

"How I do is none of your business," Edwin coldly informed his assailant as he pulled his wrist free from the elf's grasp. "Begone, you slithering eel!"

The fool of an elf just kept grinning. "Ah, yes... the eel... I slither about your loveliness because you draw me to you. You... with your dark lashes and your come-hither eyes..."

"I said begone!" Edwin shrieked. "Can you not understand the simplest of common speech, you lumbering piece of filth!"

"Salvanas understands you. He hears your words and he feels your passion. Your fire ignites my own, my sweet... come to me..."

"(Pig!) I'll show you fire!" Edwin raised his hand and was about to conjure up a fireball (just a small one) when the inn's bouncer grabbed the revolting elf's shoulder.

"I warned you, Salvanas. Don't pester the other guests."

"But she -"

"She don't want your company," the bouncer said, then turned to Edwin and added, "Apologies, m'lady," before dragging the lunatic elf out of the room.

"Sorry 'bout that, m'lady," the young boy behind the bar told Edwin. "Can I get you something?"

Edwin eyed his goblet derisively. It was still half full of whatever it was they sold as 'red wine' in these parts. "Saerloonian brandy."

"Are you sure, m'lady? That stuff's quite potent."

"(Insults everywhere I turn...) Bring me," Edwin said, slowly and carefully so that his words might penetrate the dullard's thick skull, "Saerloonian brandy. Bring the whole bottle."

-.-.-

An hour later, Edwin's mood wasn't really any better, but his perspective on things did seem a lot clearer. Also, the other people in the inn (he couldn't quite think of a word that'd describe them) were giving him a wider berth than when he'd arrived. The bar boy didn't talk to him, and the stupid elf hadn't come back, and the other people in the inn were actually mostly somewhere else.

At this rate, he almost felt ready to start thinking about what had happened to him.

Curse the Netherese and their warped sense of humour! What kind of sick mind would make a scroll, have its name sung through the ages, and then put such a spell in it? Would they think Edwin's plight was funny, perhaps? (Of course they would! And so would Thay!) The whole thing was a trick, a devilish trick designed to ruin his life! If only he could get his hands on those responsible...

Who was responsible, really?

Why had he started to hunt for the dratted thing in the first place?

A vague memory of the tome that'd once let them into Candlekeep, the tome he'd read as much of as he could... The History of the wretched scroll? Yes, that'd been it! That's when it started! That Duke in Baldur's Gate who gave them the tome in the first place, he was the one who'd triggered this disaster!

But there was more to it. (Yes, much more...)

Edwin's thoughts spun and spun, pulling together strands of memories, and his outrage built as he came closer to realizing exactly how he'd ended up like this. (Why had he not seen this before?) Oh, he would -

For the second time that evening, someone touched Edwin without his permission. This time, there was a hand resting on his shoulder.

"Begone, lizard!" Edwin snapped, and turned to blast the stupid elf into another plane, but it wasn't the stupid elf. It was Yoshimo and the cleric, and the hand on his shoulder belonged to Yoshimo. "What'you want?" Edwin demanded.

"It is getting late, oh great wizard," Yoshimo said. "The innkeeper thought you might want to go to your room rather than sleep in here."

Edwin looked around. The room was empty, and rather dark; they must have forgotten to light the candles. He also noticed, much to his dismay, that someone had knocked over his bottle of brandy, spilling it across the table, the floor, and his robes. (Why would anyone do something like that?) "I still have thinking to do," he stiffly informed Yoshimo and the cleric, and turned his attention to a wet and somewhat sticky stain on his left sleeve. (Oh, how he hated the world...)

"Aye, I can see that," the cleric grumbled.

"Certainly it can wait until morning, no?" Yoshimo suggested.

"It's all Imoen's fault," Edwin muttered.

"How is that?" Yoshimo asked.

"I will tell you," Edwin said. It was all so clear now, as if he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning that was made of insight. "If she hadn't been so nosy, I never would have cared about getting the wretched scroll (I think). If not for her, I never would have disobeyed my orders. If she hadn't distracted me, I'd have found a way to get Ember to come with me to Thay, or I'd at least have written the report! I wasted all my time chasing a thing because of Imoen, when all I needed to do was write a simple report on my findings! My standing in Thay would've been saved forever, and I'd never have become stuck with a bunch of simians, with Degardan chasing me, and in this shape!" Edwin drew a deep breath. "It's all Ember's fault, too," he added.

"What are you talking about?" the cleric asked.

Edwin laughed. At least he had never been as befuddled as that Helmite bore! "You ignorant fool!" he cried. "You moon over her all day long, and you don't even know what she is!"

"Make sense, wizard," the cleric growled.

"Your precious lady Ember," Edwin said, taking care to talk slowly so their fool heads might understand, "is Bhaalspawn. Child of Bhaal. Offspring of the dead god of Murder."

-.-.-

"Awaken."

With some difficulty, Edwin opened his eyes, and was near blinded by searing white daylight. "What!" he croaked, and winced in pain; his head throbbed as though someone was striking it with a mallet.

"Awaken," the voice repeated.

Squinting, Edwin assessed his situation. He was in his bed at the inn; he could not recall how he got there. He was still wearing his robes. His robes had numerous stains (some of which defied description), and stank. His mouth felt like something small and furry had crawled inside it and died roughly a thousand years ago.

To his dismay, he was still a woman. (The pain in his head had almost made him forget about that.)

Anomen was standing beside his bed. (How dare he intrude in such a manner?!)

Before Edwin could muster the strength to demand the insufferable cleric leave the room, Anomen spoke. "Do you recall what you spoke of yestereve, wizard?" he asked.

Edwin frowned. Spoke of? To the Helmite oaf? What could he possibly have -

Oh.

Oh, no. No, no, no. (He couldn't have!)

(He had, hadn't he?)

"She knows too, doesn't she," he moaned as the recollection of what he'd said the evening before struck him with full force. (He'd told them just about everything!)

"Nay, she does not," the cleric replied. "We have not told her."

Immense relief washed over Edwin. There was still a chance! If only he could explain, make Anomen understand how important it was that Ember didn't -

"You shall inform her of your dealings yourself."


	38. Chapter 109: Handling the Truth

**Chapter 109: Handling the Truth**

 _Imoen was right,_ Ember thought numbly as she listened to Edwin's stammered confession. _He really_ _ **was**_ _up to something else._

As it turned out, when Edwin had told Imoen he was seeking old artifacts on the Sword Coast, he was really seeking Bhaalspawn. He'd come to suspect Ember might be one when he first saw her strange healing powers, and had asked to join her party in order to find out what she was (after all, as he said, in the worst case, he'd be following some other gifted being around). Once he'd verified his suspicions, he was supposed to bring her to Thay, or to leave the matter to his superiors. He'd done neither, on account of Imoen 'disrupting' him. And now, because his superiors had found out that that he'd travelled with a Bhaalspawn without reporting it, he was banished from Thay, his life was forfeit, and the Red Wizard Degardan had been sent forth to locate and eliminate him.

And he was telling her all of this now because he'd already told Anomen and Yoshimo, in drunken fragments, the night before.

Ember buried her face in her hands, and waited for Edwin to finish his story. "A rat," she muttered. "All this time, a rat!"

"(Er...)"

"Tell me one thing, Edwin. How could Ajantis not have seen this treachery in you?"

"(Treachery?)" he protested. "What treachery is there in being intrigued by someone's preternatural abilities? And," he added, "why should wanting to bring someone to Thay necessarily be an act of 'evil intent'?"

"When it's disguised as wanting Imoen to get better instruction, you mean?" she snapped. "How could you do that?! You exploited her friendship to try to bait me! You... you knew what might be wrong with me ALL ALONG!

He clutched his temples. "Don't yell..."

Yelling was the very least of the things she felt like doing to him at that moment. "Get out of my sight," she growled.

Edwin scurried out of the room.

Ember slumped down on her bed and stared blankly at the open door. The doorposts were adorned by subtle wood carvings; they reminded her of leafy vines, or of flames. The hallway beyond lay in shadow.

Now she knew why Anomen hadn't joined her and Minsc for his morning prayers that day.

-.-.-

Half an hour later, Ember entered one of the inn's upper parlours. The others were already there; Minsc greeted her by the door, while Anomen, Yoshimo and Mazzy had seated themselves around the large table that dominated that particular parlour. Minsc still looked just as bewildered as he'd been earlier, when she'd asked him to assemble the others there, and there was some confusion on Mazzy's face as well; they must not have been told yet. Yoshimo appeared more intrigued than anything else, and actually gave her a small smile. Anomen...

Anomen was not looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the small vase of flowers at the center of the table. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his expression was stony.

Her heart sank even more.

"Sit with me," she murmured to Minsc. He pulled out a chair for her at the head of the table, then another for himself, and they both sat down.

"Well," she said, and licked her parched lips. It didn't seem to do much good. "I... er... Mazzy?"

"Yes?"

"They... they haven't told you, have they?"

"No, my friend; all I know is that this pertains to the wizard, and to something he spoke of to Yoshimo and Anomen last night."

"Boo does not like the sound of this!" Minsc exclaimed. "What has the girl that was Edwin done now?"

"What he's done..." Ember looked at Mazzy. "He told them two things. The first was his mission in joining my company. He was supposed to find someone like me, and get that person to come with him to Thay - Minsc, sit down. Please. The Red Wizards want Edwin dead now because he failed to report that he'd found me, and failed to bring me to Thay. The second thing... the reason he was seeking someone like me..."

"He told?!" Minsc roared, standing up and slamming his massive fist on the table. "Spying, and telling?! How dare he do that to Minsc's witch! I will -"

"Minsc, stop!" Ember cried. "Let me deal with him."

"No! I must defend -"

"Promise me that you will not do anything to Edwin!"

"But -"

"Please, Minsc."

Minsc sat down again. "Minsc and Boo promise," he said miserably.

"Thank you," Ember said unsteadily, and squeezed Minsc's hand. Right now, she needed her friend, not her champion, and as tempting as it was, tearing Edwin to bloody shreds would solve absolutely nothing.

"Our friend Minsc knows already, then?" Yoshimo asked.

"Yes, he knows," Ember said. Her heart was pounding. "What Edwin told you last night... it was the truth." She looked down. _I've waited too long already._ "I am a child of Bhaal."

Silence filled the room.

"I never knew what I was until last autumn," she continued, not raising her eyes from the intricacies of the woodgrain pattern on the tabletop. It was easier than looking at her companions. "I never even suspected there was anything wrong with me until springtime, a little more than a year ago. Minsc has known the truth as long as I have. I asked him not to tell you. I... I was afraid you would refuse to help me rescue Imoen if you knew, and I didn't think it was necessary for you to know." She swallowed; a large lump was forming in her throat. "Later, I wanted to tell you, but... I was too scared of how you might react. I couldn't bring myself to say it. I am sorry."

"I do not understand," Mazzy said after a while. "I have heard of the prophecies regarding Bhaal and his offspring. As I recall them, they do not seem to fit you."

"And from what I have heard," Yoshimo said, "I thought a Bhaalspawn would be larger."

Ember laughed nervously. "Larger than Minsc, with glowing eyes and spiky armour and a massive sword, perhaps?"

"Aye, something like that."

"I've never wished to live up to such an image. Nor do I want to see those prophecies fulfilled. But, what I want won't change what's in my blood." She sighed. "Now... now that you know, what do you three intend to do?"

"Intend?" Yoshimo asked. "Are you no longer the young lady that led me out of Irenicus's dungeon? Nothing has truly changed between us; I may be a little more knowledgeable, perhaps, but that is all."

"I cannot fault your desire to keep this a secret, I suppose," Mazzy said. "I doubt... I cannot claim that I will be able to look upon you with the same eyes as before. But I do know that in the time that I have travelled with you, you have proven yourself to be a person with your heart in the right place. I shall stand by you while you stay on this path."

"I hope I won't disappoint you," Ember said quietly. It was as good a reaction from them as she could have hoped for.

"And what of you, friend Anomen?" Yoshimo asked. "What do you say?"

Anomen didn't answer at once. "I have pledged my honour to the rescue of Imoen," he said, slowly and stiffly. "My pledge stands yet."

His words felt like a blow to her chest. It was better than him leaving immediately, or taking a stand against her, but only barely. "I... see," she muttered. "I release you from that pledge, if you prefer."

"My pledge stands," he repeated.

"Boo is happy to hear this," Minsc said, but he spoke calmly, with none of his usual enthusiasm.

"None of us will depart from our current course, it seems," Yoshimo said, and stood up from the table. "Do not worry, my friend! You will see Imoen again, and Yoshimo will be by your side when you do."

"I need some time to gather my thoughts," Mazzy said as she followed suit, "but I would like to ask you more about this later."

"Of course, Mazzy."

Anomen was the last of the three to leave the table. He slowly got up and headed towards the door, still not looking at her. "I'm sorry," Ember murmured as he passed her. His step faltered, but only for a moment. He left the room.

The meeting was over.

"This has been the strangest of mornings!" Minsc declared. "But friends are still friends, and little Anomen will not be angry forever, or so Boo thinks. See the optimism in his eyes?" He took Ember's hand, turned it palm up, and gently placed the hamster in it. Boo snuffled once, twice, and scratched his whiskers with a tiny paw.

Ember wiped a tear from her cheek, and ran her fingers through the soft, warm fur on the hamster's back. "I hope you're right, Boo," she whispered dejectedly.

-.-.-

"You cannot abandon me here!" Edwin cried as soon as Ember entered his room. From the look of it, he'd been waiting for her ever since she'd dismissed him earlier that morning.

"And why not?" Ember asked coldly. "Is there anyone else you'll report me to if I do that?"

"No!"

"Is there somewhere else you'd rather I leave you, then?"

"(Isn't it obvious?) You may cast me aside whenever and wherever you like," Edwin said, gritting his teeth, "but you **must** wait until Imoen has been reclaimed!"

 _So that's it._ "Why would I want to wait for that?"

"It is very simple," Edwin said, reverting to the tone of someone lecturing a stubborn child. "Would you rather go into a wizard nest without a practitioner of the arcane arts by your side, than go with someone who ultimately did not act against you?"

"Which you only did because of Imoen," Ember retorted. But he did have a point, she conceded to herself; none of them knew what kind of magic they might encounter. And to find another mage willing to help with the rescue, at this stage...

"Yes, because of Imoen! And I refuse to stand by and watch you fumble her rescue attempt; she will not rot in Spellhold on account of your folly!" Despair shone in his eyes; she almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"What if you reach her," he argued, "and find you cannot rescue her, merely for the lack of a wizard?"

She wavered.

"(Please...)"

"Damn you and your logic!" she snapped. "You can stay until Imoen is safe, then. But in the meantime, I will not accept a single complaint from you. I will have no more arguments, no more putting your mouth where it doesn't belong, and no more wasting time with trying to correct **your** blunder. Do not make me regret this."

"You won't."

She stomped out of the room, and slammed the door shut behind her.


	39. Chapter 110: Damsel in Distress

**Chapter 110: Damsel in Distress**

Over the next few days, Minsc rarely strayed from Ember's side. When he wasn't hovering protectively around her, as if he worried his companions might do something to his witch after all, he sat with her and talked about Boo and squirrels and trees and former acts of heroing and goodness. He never directly protested Ember's command to not harm Edwin, but every now and then he'd shoot the wizard a withering glare, or say something along the lines of how Boo didn't like the evil wizard's face no matter who he was.

Edwin, in turn, behaved almost admirably. He made no demands, didn't complain about anything, and made no snide remarks of any kind; in effect, he didn't speak for three days on end, but as far as Ember was concerned, that only counted in his favour.

Mazzy and Yoshimo continued to handle Ember's heritage far better than she'd dared to expect. A certain wariness had crept into Mazzy's manner, but there didn't seem to be any hostility behind it, and when Mazzy asked how Ember's divine blood manifested itself, she spoke carefully about how it gave her horrible dreams and how she could draw a small amount of power from it. Yoshimo, on the other hand, remained unperturbed by Ember's blood, and asked instead about the adventures that had led to the discovery. He seemed fascinated by the way she and Sarevok had hunted each other up and down the Sword Coast, and would often ask for more tales about their great chase, as he called it.

Anomen still did not speak to her.

She'd accepted his silence to begin with, and had made an effort to stay out of his way for the two days they spent in Trademeet, but by the time the group set out for Athkatla again, most of her guilt had given way to other emotions. Sometimes, she resented the way he treated her, and wanted to confront him about it, but every time, she held back; she didn't want to be the first one to speak. Sometimes, she wondered if it would have made a difference had he known sooner or if she'd been the one to tell him, and sometimes, she felt certain that he would have reacted exactly the same no matter what. Sometimes, she sternly reminded herself that she'd known all along that there couldn't be anything between them, and that she didn't really have anything to be unhappy about.

Sometimes, she wished she'd never met him.

Sometimes, she wanted to kill him.

-.-.-

When the group reached the village of Arnise, their last stop before Athkatla, they found it in turmoil. Even though it was not yet evening, almost every house was shuttered up, and the sound of fearful crying came from several of them. Those who were not indoors were all hurrying up the road towards the village's inn, some of them armed with pitchforks and kitchen knives.

"You there!" Yoshimo called out to two young men as they hurried past the group. "What has happened here?"

"Trolls!" one of the men shouted.

"They've taken the keep!" the other man added. Neither of them stopped for as much as a moment.

"Trolls?" Minsc rumbled. "They do not belong in keeps! We must stop their evil with generous doses of sword-swinging!"

"Indeed we must, good Minsc," Mazzy said. "Let us follow and see what we can learn."

The green in front of the inn was crowded with angry and distraught villagers. In their midst stood the focal point of everyone's attention: a young woman in a mudstained gown. Her bright red hair - almost the same shade as Imoen's - was dishevelled, and her cheeks bore traces of tears.

"After all I've done for your kind, is this this the thanks I get?" the young woman cried.

"But Mistress Nalia, we're naught but farmers!" a man in the crowd protested.

"Aye," another man grumbled. "What could folks like us do, beyond getting ourselves killed?"

"We must defend our own homes, too!" a third argued.

"I only need a few more men," the young woman pleaded. She looked around the crowd, and her eyes fell upon Ember and her group. "You!" she called out. "Are you for hire? As mercenaries, I mean? My home is under siege!"

"We heard of your plight, my lady," Mazzy said, "and we will lend our assistance in whichever way we can."

"You will? Oh, wonderful!" Her shoulders sagging with relief, the young woman hurried towards the group; the crowd parted to let her through. "Come, there is no time to waste!"

The young woman was Lady Nalia de'Arnise, and as she led the group to the keep, she explained the situation further. The trolls had come in the night, burrowing in from below somehow. The guards had fought bravely, but the trolls were too much for them, and in the end, only a dozen or so had made it out alive. They were encamped in the forest, not far from the keep, and their primary goal was to try to rescue Nalia's father, Lord de'Arnise, her aunt, Lady Delcia Caan, and whomever else might remain inside.

"Lady Nalia, do you have a plan for accomplishing this feat?" Anomen asked. "With the gate held against us, a frontal assault would be surely a slaughter."

"Oh, yes! I mean, there is a plan, of sorts. There's a secret door along the outer wall of the keep, hidden behind some bushes. I've been using it to sneak out at night."

"Is that so?" Yoshimo asked with a small, knowing grin.

Nalia blushed. "No, no, it's not what you think! I've been helping the poor, and how else can I do it and not be noticed? They have pride too, and... I really shouldn't be seen with them."

"Of course," Yoshimo said.

"Aunty's never approved of what I do, but I don't care," she added proudly.

"Tell us more about your plan," Ember asked impatiently. It was all well and good that the young lady who was now walking beside Anomen enjoyed aiding poor people, but this was hardly the time to be prattling on about it!

"We're going to use the secret door," Nalia said. "It leads into one of the lesser storage rooms, just beyond the armoury. The trolls may guard the gate, but they won't be guarding the storage rooms! I talked with Captain Arat - he's the guard captain - and he suggested we use that route to try to reach Father and Aunty, but there were too few of us left outside, only Captain Arat and ten guards and myself, and most of the guards are injured. By the time they're fit to fight, it may be too late."

"We have healers amongst our numbers," Mazzy said.

"You truly are a godsend!" Nalia said with a happy laugh.

-.-.-

The wounded guards, five men and three women, were assembled in a forester's cabin, just out of sight of the keep. They each had a makeshift cot, and a pair of middle-aged women attended them. A young girl in servant's clothing kneeled by the side of one of the wounded men. The cabin was only lit by the flickering light from the fireplace, and the only sounds were the occasional moans of pain, the bubbling of a pot of broth that stood on the fire, and the young girl's weeping.

When Anomen and Ember, accompanied by Minsc, arrived at the cabin, the two women greeted them warmly and gave them an account of the guards' injuries. For the most part, their hurts were relatively benign; cuts, scratches, concussions, and a few broken ribs or limbs, but three of them had far more serious injuries. One of the women had had her leg violently broken, and the bonepipes jutted out through the skin of her thigh. One of the men had lacerations on his torso and belly. The man who was being wept over had had his sword arm ripped off by a giant troll.

Without a word, Anomen went to attend to the man with the lacerated belly. Ember went to the man who had lost his arm. He was pale and delirious; he'd been given some tea to put him to sleep, the attending women had said, but from the look of it, the tea wasn't quite working. A simple tourniquet had been wrapped around his arm, just below the shoulder; the rest of the arm was covered by a bloodied cloth. He was very young, barely more than a boy.

"May I look at his arm?" Ember asked the weeping girl who sat beside him.

The girl nodded. "Please, don't let him die," she pleaded.

"Don't be afraid, little one," Minsc told the girl. "Ember is a great witch, and she'll make him better in no time!"

Ember pulled the cloth away from the wounded arm, and grimaced. The arm had, indeed, been ripped off; everything beyond the elbow joint was gone. What remained below the tourniquet was torn and damaged, with far from enough skin remaining to cover the stump. Blood and fluids seeped from the exposed flesh, and it looked like an infection was already setting in. _Minsc may have too much confidence in me this time,_ she thought, aghast at the scale of the injury. Where was she even to begin?

Feeling as though she was being watched, she looked around. The two women were tending to the woman with the broken leg. Anomen was still muttering prayers over the man with the lacerated belly, but his eyes were on Ember; he looked away as soon as he saw he'd been noticed. _I don't have to ask about_ _ **your**_ _confidence in me,_ Ember thought furiously, and focused her attention fully on the wounded boy. She was not going to let that damned insufferable cleric and his damned insufferable opinions get in the way of her work!

First, she cured the infection that had begun to fester in the tattered flesh. Then, she placed her hands on his arm, and let herself slip into a light trance, going to a place where nothing existed but the boy, herself, and the living world around them. There was so much life in the boy, so much strength and will to fight the injury, to heal the breach, but that vitality ended abruptly where the tourniquet wrapped around his arm. _A tree that's lost a limb._ It was such a pity...

She loosened the tourniquet. The young girl gave a fearful cry; Minsc said something calming to her that Ember couldn't catch through her half-trance. Blood returned to the ruined part of the arm, some reviving the flesh, some leaking out of it. _Just like a shattered pine branch._ Ember returned her hands to the wounded arm, closed her eyes, and went deeper into trance. She began to pray. It was a persistent, silent prayer, and she repeated it more times than she could count, pleading for the power to let the boy's wounded body do what it yearned so desperately to do.

In the end, her plea was granted.

Ember gasped as green light cascaded through her, pushing out of her fingertips and into the boy's arm, imbuing it with vitality; in her inner sight, the boy seemed to glow like a beacon of pure life. She ended her trance and opened her eyes, and saw that the boy's skin had already begun to regrow over the bare flesh. Blood no longer seeped from his wounds.

"Watch over him tonight. Feed him well," Ember wearily instructed the young girl, who was staring wide-eyed at her and the boy. Everyone else in the room was looking at them, too; even Anomen was watching her. Ember was too tired to care; she felt utterly drained, and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. But that had to wait. "He'll be all right," she mumbled, and tried to get to her feet. She stumbled; Minsc's large arms caught her.

"Boo says you must sit down!" he announced, and before she knew it, she was seated on a bench by the fireplace, with a cushion at her back and Minsc by her side.

"Rest now, lass," one of the attending women said, and handed her a bowl of warm broth. "Your friend says he'll take care of the others."

 _Friend, indeed._ "If you say so," Ember muttered. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the soft, welcoming cushion.

-.-.-

An hour later, Ember had recovered considerably from her casting, and all but the three most injured guards had been restored to fighting condition. In the light of the setting sun, Ember's group of six, Captain Arat, his seven able-bodied guards, and Nalia assembled outside the forester's cabin; fifteen people to stand up against at least twice as many trolls.

The rescue plan had been altered. Rather than all of them trying to sneak in through the hidden door and running the risk of being overwhelmed by the trolls, the way the guards had been earlier, Captain Arat and Yoshimo had planned a diversion. The six newcomers, far more accustomed to fighting and stealth than the keep guards, would sneak in by themselves. The hidden door was not too far from the gatehouse; if they could make it there and lower the drawbridge, the guards would engage the trolls there, drawing their attention and thus making it easier for the group to work their way through the keep itself. Nalia had added to this scheme by insisting she accompany the group; she was the ideal guide, seeing as she knew all the secrets of the keep, and she claimed to know some magic as well. Captain Arat, who did not want the last free member of the de'Arnise family to endanger herself, was less than pleased with this, but in the end, he yielded to her wishes.

"Be very careful, Mistress," the guard captain admonished Nalia as the group prepared to leave. "We cannot afford to lose you as well!"

"I shall do my utmost to keep her from harm," Anomen said.

"Stand ready by the gate, and we shall do the rest!" Yoshimo announced cheerfully. "Is that not so, good Minsc?"

Minsc roared with glee. "We will crush the trolls under the bootheels of righteousness!"

Captain Arat almost smiled. "May the gods go with you," he said, and handed Mazzy a bundle of arrows that had been doused in oil and were ready to be ignited.

"And with you," Mazzy replied.

"You have served my father well today, Captain," Nalia said, and gave the guard captain her hand. "On his behalf, I thank you."

The group followed Nalia in silence towards the south wall of the keep, where the secret entrance was hidden behind a large cluster of hawthorn bushes. Just before entering the narrow corridor that would lead into the bowels of the keep, Ember glanced up at the massive walls that loomed overhead.

It was going to be a very long night.


	40. Chapter 111: The Keep

**Chapter 111: The Keep**

The party was welcomed inside the keep by a group of eight servants who had hidden themselves in the storage rooms. They greeted Nalia with familiarity, but reverted to nervous politeness when they saw that their mistress was accompanied by a group of strangers.

"Worry not," Nalia told the servants. "These people are not my family; these are my own hirelings. No secrets need to be kept here."

"As you would have it, Miss Nalia," one of the servants said.

"Aunty prefers no contact with the people we govern," Nalia explained to Ember and her companions, "but lack of breeding is no cause for bad treatment. Aunty is quite unreceptive to these ideas, though. She is of the old school, and believes lesser classes are best reminded of their position at all times. I disagree."

"Right, she's one stuffed old biddy, isn't she?" another of the servants said, chuckling slightly.

"That will do, Sarnel!" Nalia snapped.

"M-my apologies, Miss Nalia," the servant stammered, "I... I meant nothing..."

"I'm certain you didn't. But do not forget: regardless of her attitude, she is still a noble in this house," Nalia said. "Now then, we must set about finding her, and my father. Have you seen anything of them?"

"I saw Lord de'Arnise not three hours ago, Miss Nalia, but he'd been captured," another servant said. "A real big troll, biggest I seen, was with him. Probably took him down to the -"

"Cellars! The 'cellars' is what they are."

"Of course, Miss Nalia. As you would have it."

"Thank you, Daleson, you have done well," Nalia said. "Please, get yourselves to safety; the secret door is behind the racks that hold the wines from the North."

The grateful servants fled through the secret door. A sob of fear, or of grief, escaped Nalia's lips as soon as they were gone.

"Lady Nalia, we must onwards," Anomen said gently.

Nalia nodded, and composed herself. "This way," she said, and lead the group out of the room.

-.-.-

The armoury was guarded by a single troll. It was quickly disposed of, and its cries brought no reinforcements.

"Outfit yourselves however you wish," Nalia offered, and retrieved an elegant bow from a rack. A shelf held several bundles of enchanted arrows, which she shared with Yoshimo, Minsc, and Mazzy.

A number of quarterstaves were lined up against one of the walls. Ember claimed one of them; a staff, even a simple one, would serve her far better against trolls than her blade could. She weighed her chosen weapon in her hands, and did her best to ignore the way Anomen pretended to not watch her as she did so.

-.-.-

The group encountered four more trolls in the corridors that led up to the courtyard. All four were dealt with with silent efficiency; Yoshimo and Nalia, who acted as scouts, alerted the others whenever a troll was nearby, Minsc, Ember, and Anomen beat the creatures down, and Edwin set fire in their flesh. Mazzy was the rearguard, ready to shoot enchanted arrows at any who might follow them.

Three trolls were lounging in a guardroom, gnawing upon what looked like the remains of a dog. The group carefully snuck past them; they could not trust that they could destroy three trolls at once without alarming the rest of the keep. It was too soon.

They moved in darkness, without torches or magelights; Nalia had cast divination spells on them all, and they did not need light to see.

-.-.-

The courtyard was mostly empty, save for a dead guard who lay face down in the dust near a well. Two trolls stood outside the gatehouse, and a third was up on the rampart, where the levers that controlled the drawbridge were.

Nalia turned to Minsc. "Ready?" she murmured. The giant ranger nodded enthusiastically.

With a whispered chant, Nalia cast invisibility on Minsc, then on herself. The rest of the group kept to the shadows, and waited.

The troll on the rampart fell down into the courtyard. The two trolls at the gatehouse rushed towards it, shouting gutturally. Minsc and Nalia were visible on the rampart now, working to twist some large contraption, and the three trolls ran towards the steps that led back up there, only to be greeted by burning arrows from Mazzy and Yoshimo, spheres of flame from Edwin, and hard knocks from Ember and Anomen. One of the trolls was killed by the time reinforcements arrived; at least half a dozen trolls, some of them very large, burst out of the main hall. The drawbridge creaked softly.

"NOW!" Ember shouted to Edwin.

A massive fireball blossomed in the middle of the courtyard, enveloping the trolls. Two of the creatures died on the spot, and the rest, screaming and gibbering, threw themselves to the ground and rolled around, trying to douse themselves. A haycart that'd been abandoned near the center of the courtyard exploded in flames, showering the trolls with burning debris, and Edwin pelted the creatures with magical globules of fire and acid. The wizard all but screamed his incantations; for the first time since reading the Nether scroll, he almost looked happy.

The drawbridge finished lowering, and the keep guards joined the fray, armed with torches, burning arrows, and jars of flammable oil. Another group of trolls came out from the main hall; Edwin blasted them with a second fireball.

"Enough, wizard!" Mazzy yelled. "We leave now!"

Very reluctantly, Edwin followed the rest of the group through a side door, leaving the chaos in the courtyard to the guards.

-.-.-

There were trolls on the upper floor of the keep as well; one awaited them in the stairwell, two more in what appeared to be a library. Fighting in close quarters meant no more fireballs and arrows, and several of the group were injured by the time the third troll was dealt with. They halted in the library, to heal and catch their breath.

"I do not understand," Nalia said quietly while Anomen tended a cut on her arm. "So few of the guards escaped, but we've only seen one body. Where could the rest of them be?"

"They could be in the main hall, yes?" Yoshimo suggested. "If they fought to the last, they may have made a stand there."

"Yes, that must be it," Nalia said. "Most of the guards were mercenary, but they were Amnish trained, and more than capable. Father has an eye for such things." She sighed. "It must have been quite the slaughter for the trolls to manage to take Father captive. And Glaicus... he must have fallen. He was Father's friend. He would have fought to the death for him..."

"I am sorry, my lady," Anomen said. "Your father may live yet, at least. They would not have singled him out for no purpose."

"But what purpose could trolls possibly have with him?!"

"What purpose could they have with taking this keep in such a fashion?" Mazzy asked. "I suspect they may be hirelings; the trolls may well be holding him on someone's behalf. Did your father have enemies?"

Nalia shook her head. "None that I know of. Father is very well-respected, both amongst his peers and his people," she said, sounding a bit uneasy. "We are not far from the private chambers. Let us move on."

-.-.-

Lord de'Arnise's room was empty.

-.-.-

Four servants were hiding behind the furniture in one of the spare rooms. Nalia instructed the frightened men and women to wait there until the group returned to bring them out safely.

-.-.-

Two small trolls were tearing up Nalia's bedchamber. They died in flames, making a charred mess on the thick woven carpet.

-.-.-

The door to Lady Delcia's room was partially blocked by furniture. When the group, aided by Minsc's strength, forced their way in, they were met by a guard with a drawn sword. "Hold!" he cried. "How did you - Mistress Nalia! Is it... is it really you?!"

"Hendron? You're alive! What are you doing here?"

"I barricaded us in here to protect your aunt, my lady. I have fought off only a few trolls... I think they are not interested in either of us. What they are doing, I cannot say."

A woman in a heavily embroidered gown appeared behind the guard. She looked down her nose at the group, sighed, and shook her head with disgust. "Oh, 'tis like a nightmare!" she complained. "Yet more hooligans tracking their filth through the halls! Marching into a home as though you belong... what is the world coming to?"

The guard gave the group a long-suffering look.

"Aunty, please!" Nalia called out. "We have come to rescue you!"

"Nalia? Oh, my dear, what have you brought home with you this time? I have told you about consorting with such creatures! You will only end up like your mother."

"Aunty..."

"If only you would try to keep the dignity of your station above such things! You soil yourself dealing with your lessers. Ahh, my words are for naught, or you would not be here at all..."

"We could learn so much from the commoners, Aunty! You really should treat them with more respect!"

"This is hardly the time for this discussion," Ember said pointedly.

"Hmm? Oh! Yes, we should... really get moving," Nalia said, sounding flustered. "We'll come back for you, Aunty, once we've found Father."

Lady Delcia raised her hands in a what was probably meant as a resigned gesture. "As you wish. Do try to stay clean, Nalia, and try not to get killed." She turned to the rest of the group. "Lord de'Arnise is still at the mercy of the beasts below. I believe they are trying to get him to reveal something about a cache of gold. I doubt he will say a word. He's as soft as Nalia at times, but he does not lower himself to dealing with his lessers. Do rescue him, will you? It is your duty, I believe."

Thus dismissed, the group left her room and continued onwards to what Nalia called the cellars.

"The woman could try almost anyone's patience. No wonder the trolls did not eat her... no doubt she would taste as sour as she seems," Mazzy grumbled, then blushed. "I should not have said that."

"I appreciate your restraint," Nalia said apologetically. "Aunty's decent enough, but very set in her ways. Come, this is the entrance." She stopped in front of a door made from heavy oak that looked as if it had been forced open recently, and pushed it open. Within was a spiral staircase made from rough stones.

At the bottom of that staircase lay a dungeon, with ancient shackles still rusting on its walls.

-.-.-

The two trolls that loitered near the dungeon entrance were easily dealt with, but the five umberhulks that were gathered in one of the inner chambers posed more of a challenge - or so most of the group believed.

"Stand aside," Edwin huffed, and cast a spell through the doorway into the umberhulk chamber before anyone could stop him. An acrid, sickly orange cloud filled the room, and every single umberhulk died within a matter of heartbeats.

"How did you do that?!" Nalia exclaimed.

"(Insectoids cannot endure the cloudkill spell,)" the wizard announced, beaming with pride.

Once the spell dissipated, the group entered the room. There were no more enemies to be seen, but another doorway stood open on the left wall, and crackling, scraping sounds came from that direction.

"I smell you... I do..." a gravelly, guttural voice hissed. "You gradunk no be hiding on TorGal!"

"Stand forth and be judged, creature!" Anomen shouted.

The voice laughed. "You grrranktal no tell me what be done! None but Stronger tell TorGal what fregRrrrt be done!"

"Come now, who could be stronger than you?" Yoshimo called out. "Who would dare give orders to you?"

"You think me stupid?!" the voice roared. "I tell you nothing of Stronger than us! Should have left with gold like other small grrthed guards! Now you die and bones will feed Torgal!"

A truly immense troll, so large that it had to crouch to enter the room, emerged through the doorway. It leered viciously at the party, displaying a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, and charged at them with inhuman speed.

"Archers, back!" Mazzy cried out, moving to the back of the room as she drew her bow; Yoshimo and Nalia hurried towards her. Edwin stood his ground and blasted the troll with a jet of flame, but the blast that would have immolated any of the other trolls barely even singed Torgal. The troll continued unimpeded onwards, and behind it, two more giant trolls entered the room.

With a bloodcurdling roar, Minsc charged at Torgal. Ember rushed towards one of new arrivals and rammed her staff into its belly, then struck its knees and shins with quick, hard swipes, keeping the troll preoccupied with her while her companions assaulted it with acid spells and burning arrows. Beside her, Anomen had intercepted the other troll, and seemed to be faring well... but Minsc, singlehandedly standing against Torgal and fighting as bravely as ever, was bleeding from a number of gashes.

As soon as Ember's troll fell to its knees, yielding to the dozen or so burning arrows that were embedded in its flesh, she went straight for Torgal, but when she moved to strike the giant troll, it swatted her staff away with a long, sinewy arm, then punched her hard enough to send her skidding across the floor. The staff broke; she tossed the pieces aside, drew her scimitar, and charged again, slashing her blade across Torgal's back. It left a shallow cut that seemed to close as she watched, but slight as it was, the wound did distract the troll, and when Torgal turned to attack her, Anomen struck, smashing his hammer into one of its knees. Howling with fury, the troll twisted and turned and attempted to lash out at all three of its attackers at once, but even with its blinding speed, it could not turn every blow aimed at it, and even though most of the arrows bounced off of its tough skin, a few of them kindled on patches of ragged trollhide. Acid spells blistered its skin and ate into its flesh.

Little by little, the troll slowed down. It stumbled, made a sound like a crackling wheeze, and swiped at its foes with steadily less aim and purpose. The giant troll could not stop the inevitable, and in the end, it gave in to the barrage. Wreathed in flames, Torgal crumpled to the ground.

-.-.-

"Die, you beast!" Nalia kicked Torgal's still-smoking corpse; it fell apart in a pile of ashes. "I will clear this place of any taint you left behind! I will... I will..." Her eyes fell on the other doorway. "Father..." she murmured, and hurried towards it.

"Nalia, wait!" Mazzy cried out. "Don't..."

Nalia didn't heed the warning.

She looked through the doorway, and wailed in anguish.


	41. Chapter 112: Pyrrhic Victory

**Chapter 113: Bridges**

The four hour trip to Athkatla was made in greater comfort than Ember and her companions were accustomed to; Nalia, who had apologized for not offering the use of their carriages, as her aunt would need them both for the funeral, had hired two farmers to drive the group to the city in hay carts. Yoshimo and Anomen accompanied the young lady in one of the carts, while Edwin, Mazzy, Minsc, and Ember shared the other one.

Nalia, pale and worn with grief, looked like a lost child where she sat in the cart, peering out from under the hood of her rich blue cloak. She did not speak much, and Yoshimo's attempts to cheer her, even for a moment, received little more than polite acknowledgment. Her attention was mostly held by the signet ring - her father's ring - that she cradled in her hands. Ember had not thought much of the young noble when they first met, but now, she couldn't help but feel for her.

Edwin, proud as a peacock, was in a good enough mood that he'd started sorting through his enchanted scrolls again, absentmindedly muttering a quiet slight on the bumpy roads or the peasant's driving skills every now and then. Beside him, Mazzy had made herself as comfortable as was possible in an nigh-empty hay cart, and had settled in for a nap.

Minsc sat with Boo on his lap, and whenever they passed anything of interest, like a flowering tree, a flock of birds, of a strange-looking rock, he pointed it out to the hamster. Every so often, he tried to draw Ember's attention as well. His voice was cheerful, but there was something troubled in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Anomen, on the other hand, had gone back to not looking at Ember at all. There was a downcast look on his face. A bruise was forming on his jaw.

 _I shouldn't have lost my temper like that,_ Ember thought, deeply ashamed of herself. He had started it, and he did deserve it, but she shouldn't have let him get to her. And in reacting the way she did, she knew she'd burnt every remaining bridge between them; all that was left now was to wait and see how he'd choose to leave. He wouldn't sneak away like a thief in the night, that much was certain; he'd rather announce his departure, or maybe even ask permission to abandon his pledge to her. Would he decide that he needed to stay with Nalia instead, perhaps?

But why should she even care what he did? He'd gone into a rage because she was handling herself too well! Why shouldn't he be nothing to her?!

Beside her, Minsc was telling Boo all about the little fishes that lived in the river the road was currently skirting. Ember looked at the churning water and willed the sound of Minsc's voice to carry her thoughts away.

She was so tired of thinking about the whole mess.

-.-.-

Once in Athkatla, Nalia directed the drivers to the Mithrest Inn, and paid to have everyone lodged there for the night. The bustle of the common room, calm and subdued though it was compared to a place like the Copper Coronet, was more than Nalia could handle; instead, she arranged for the group to share supper with her in one of the inn's private sitting rooms. Once they were all settled in the smaller room, she behaved like a perfect host towards Ember and her companions, but it was clear that the young lady's mind was far from the meal. For the better part of the evening, she sat quietly in her chair at the head of the table, picking at her roast chicken and greens and not actually eating much of them. Ember noticed this, and the fact that Anomen barely took anything from the laden trays that crowded the table, even as she herself struggled with her food; again, and again, the succulent morsels of meat seemed to turn to ashes in her mouth.

"I just don't understand," Nalia sighed, long after her meal had turned cold. "Who could possibly want to do this to us?"

"A despicable villain who very much deserves a lesson with boot and blade!" Minsc cried. "Boo is certain of this."

"As much as it must pain you to think of it, I do not think such a cruel deed could be a random act of violence," Mazzy said. "Are you absolutely certain that you know of none who might mean your father harm?"

Nalia nodded.

"Who stands to benefit from his death?" Yoshimo asked.

"By inheritance? No, I don't think it was like that. There's still me, and Aunty, but even if they didn't know I'd managed to escape, you saw that they didn't touch her."

"(Who would blame them?)" Edwin muttered.

"Your father's records may contain useful information, yes?" Yoshimo suggested. "They are, after all, yours now; you should inspect them, I think."

"I... I suppose so," Nalia said unhappily. She picked up a piece of chicken with her fork, and stared thoughtfully at it. "Isaea will be even more intolerable now," she muttered.

"Who might this Isaea be?" Yoshimo asked.

"My betrothed, ever since I was a baby in a cradle," Nalia said. "He is a brat of a man, and I would never dream of marrying him, had I a choice! Father said he would stall the marriage as long as I wished him to, but now... Isaea will surely want to push the arrangement, and since Aunty likes him, I'll get no support from her. I will be forced into a life of quiet nobility, while he'll take over my father's holdings and treat them as though they were his all along."

Several looks were exchanged across the table.

"Is there any chance that **he** might have..?" Ember asked.

"Oh, no, no, no! Goodness, no. He may treat others as dirt, but he'd never do something like this! He is an army officer, and works at the very core of law enforcement in Athkatla! No, it is unthinkable."

"If you say so," Yoshimo said smoothly, and took a few grapes from the fruit bowl.

The awkward supper did not last much longer after that, and the group dispersed, each going to their separate rooms. It was with no small amount of relief that Ember went to her room and closed the door behind her; the day had lasted far too long for her liking, and the chance to rest without anyone to disturb her came as an extremely welcome luxury. She felt like she could sleep for a year. If she was really lucky, she'd be too tired to even dream...

Someone knocked on her door.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Who is it?" she called out, hoping it wasn't who she thought it was.

"May I speak with you?" Anomen asked timidly through the door.

She didn't reply. Couldn't he at least have waited until she'd had some rest to tell her he was leaving?

"Please, my lady... I must speak with you."

Steeling herself, she opened the door and stepped back to let him enter. "Say what you must, then," she said, crossing her arms.

He glanced nervously at her as he stepped into the room. He closed the door carefully behind him, then turned towards her. "I... I am truly sorry," he stammered. "My behaviour towards you this morning, the manner in which I spoke to you, was nothing short of reprehensible. Would you... would you allow me the chance to explain, and to beg your forgiveness?"

It was the last thing she'd expected to hear from him. "I'll listen," she said. Her heart was racing.

"I am most thankful, my lady," he said, and paused. "It was all so clear to me but a moment ago... but now, being in your presence, I scarcely know where to begin." He ran his hand through his hair. "Sometimes, you see, my accursed temper gets the better of me; to my shame, you can bear witness to that. There... there is an anger inside me, and for all my efforts, I cannot seem to control it. Every day, I try to keep my deeds and thoughts pure, that I might live up to the ideals I have always strived to follow... but it has become a battle I fear I am losing."

"And if you do lose, the Order will reject you."

"Aye," he sighed, "that is my fear. And you... I had simply thought that you were a kindred sort, my lady. I saw signs of a similar struggle in you... and thought that, as a friend, you might understand me a little."

She chuckled bitterly. "Funny thing is, I thought the same about you. That you might understand **me** a little."

He glanced at her. "You did attempt to tell me the truth, did you not? When you spoke of Gorion's death?"

"Yes. Would it have made any difference?" _Other than that you'd never have given me that rhodelia, that is._

"I... I cannot say. I like to think that I should have acted more gracefully, had I received the news from you and not from a besotted wizard. All I know is that in an instant, you became a stranger to me, one whose motivations and actions I could not hope to comprehend. I... I felt I'd opened my heart, voiced my fears, to someone I truly did not know at all. I did not know what to make of you; in truth, I still do not."

"I know," she snapped. "That wasn't hard to guess, not with you continually watching me as if you expected horns to sprout from the Bhaalspawn's forehead at any moment!"

"Such was never my intent! I... I have watched you, as you say, and tried to form my own thoughts, but I never dreamed of..." He shook his head. "Ah, but I am a fool! If you thought me so unfeeling, it is no wonder you welcomed my query with such flippant scorn!"

"Flippant? What are you talking about?"

"The question I asked you this morning was meant most sincerely!"

"So was my answer!"

They glared at each other, on the verge of another fight, but soon, Anomen's expression softened. Maybe he, too, realized how ridiculous this was, Ember wondered as her own mood settled a bit.

"I am most sorry, my lady," he said quietly. "I should have brought my cares before you far sooner. I should not have burdened you with my ill-directed anger, which was more anger at my own inability to... to be as I might wish to be. You did not deserve the brunt of my ire."

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have hit you, or told you quite so much in quite that manner. And," she said, suddenly finding it hard to not smile, "I shouldn't have called you a pile of orc dung."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as well. "I hope that is not due to such a comparison being offensive to the orc dung," he said.

"No," she chuckled. She recalled how she'd wished he'd fallen on a cow patty, and the chuckle became laughter, bursting forth from her like water breaking through ice in spring. He started to laugh as well, and before long, both of them were laughing so hard they had to sit down, she on her bed and he on a chair.

"My lady, why... why are we laughing so?" Anomen gasped once their laughing fit started to wind down.

"I don't know. Because we are a pair of fools, I imagine." It didn't really matter, not when laughing like that had felt so good, so liberating. And not when their shared mirth had all but washed away the painful knot of anger that'd been lodged in her heart lately.

"A fair assessment," he said, smiling at her. She returned the smile; it was the easiest thing in the world.

"You know... I really wasn't joking this morning," she said, returning to more serious matters. "I do resist my blood because I have to. And I have to because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will lose myself if I don't. I've mentioned before that I'd changed; that was mostly a matter of stopping myself from turning into the person my blood wants me to be."

"...I see. This, then, was the source of the discord between you and Sir Ajantis?"

"Yes." She hesitated. She really needed sleep, and no matter where she began, it'd be a long story. "It's complicated. If you like, we could talk about it tomorrow?"

His eyes lit up. "I must confess that I used to find it both puzzling and vexing that you were so unwilling to speak of your past. I would be honoured to learn anything you might wish to share with me."

"Until tomorrow, then," she said. They walked to the door; as he opened it, she noticed the bruise she'd given him, still visible underneath his beard. An idea struck her. She reached out and touched his jaw; with a burst of will, a surge of fire in her veins, and a glimmering light beneath her fingers, the bruise vanished.

He stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment. "That... By Helm, that was..."

"Something else for you to think about," she grinned. "You see, the fight between me and my blood is not one-sided."

"Indeed," he stammered, gingerly touching his healed jaw.

"I'll tell you about that, too, in the morning," she said, enjoying the awestruck look on his face far more than she supposed she ought to. "Good night, Anomen."

"Good... good night, my lady."

She smiled as she closed her door. _Let the dreams come, if they must,_ she thought. _I'll handle them!_


	42. Chapter 113: Bridges

**Chapter 113: Bridges**

The four hour trip to Athkatla was made in greater comfort than Ember and her companions were accustomed to; Nalia, who had apologized for not offering the use of their carriages, as her aunt would need them both for the funeral, had hired two farmers to drive the group to the city in hay carts. Yoshimo and Anomen accompanied the young lady in one of the carts, while Edwin, Mazzy, Minsc, and Ember shared the other one.

Nalia, pale and worn with grief, looked like a lost child where she sat in the cart, peering out from under the hood of her rich blue cloak. She did not speak much, and Yoshimo's attempts to cheer her, even for a moment, received little more than polite acknowledgment. Her attention was mostly held by the signet ring - her father's ring - that she cradled in her hands. Ember had not thought much of the young noble when they first met, but now, she couldn't help but feel for her.

Edwin, proud as a peacock, was in a good enough mood that he'd started sorting through his enchanted scrolls again, absentmindedly muttering a quiet slight on the bumpy roads or the peasant's driving skills every now and then. Beside him, Mazzy had made herself as comfortable as was possible in an nigh-empty hay cart, and had settled in for a nap.

Minsc sat with Boo on his lap, and whenever they passed anything of interest, like a flowering tree, a flock of birds, of a strange-looking rock, he pointed it out to the hamster. Every so often, he tried to draw Ember's attention as well. His voice was cheerful, but there was something troubled in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Anomen, on the other hand, had gone back to not looking at Ember at all. There was a downcast look on his face. A bruise was forming on his jaw.

 _I shouldn't have lost my temper like that,_ Ember thought, deeply ashamed of herself. He had started it, and he did deserve it, but she shouldn't have let him get to her. And in reacting the way she did, she knew she'd burnt every remaining bridge between them; all that was left now was to wait and see how he'd choose to leave. He wouldn't sneak away like a thief in the night, that much was certain; he'd rather announce his departure, or maybe even ask permission to abandon his pledge to her. Would he decide that he needed to stay with Nalia instead, perhaps?

But why should she even care what he did? He'd gone into a rage because she was handling herself too well! Why shouldn't he be nothing to her?!

Beside her, Minsc was telling Boo all about the little fishes that lived in the river the road was currently skirting. Ember looked at the churning water and willed the sound of Minsc's voice to carry her thoughts away.

She was so tired of thinking about the whole mess.

-.-.-

Once in Athkatla, Nalia directed the drivers to the Mithrest Inn, and paid to have everyone lodged there for the night. The bustle of the common room, calm and subdued though it was compared to a place like the Copper Coronet, was more than Nalia could handle; instead, she arranged for the group to share supper with her in one of the inn's private sitting rooms. Once they were all settled in the smaller room, she behaved like a perfect host towards Ember and her companions, but it was clear that the young lady's mind was far from the meal. For the better part of the evening, she sat quietly in her chair at the head of the table, picking at her roast chicken and greens and not actually eating much of them. Ember noticed this, and the fact that Anomen barely took anything from the laden trays that crowded the table, even as she herself struggled with her food; again, and again, the succulent morsels of meat seemed to turn to ashes in her mouth.

"I just don't understand," Nalia sighed, long after her meal had turned cold. "Who could possibly want to do this to us?"

"A despicable villain who very much deserves a lesson with boot and blade!" Minsc cried. "Boo is certain of this."

"As much as it must pain you to think of it, I do not think such a cruel deed could be a random act of violence," Mazzy said. "Are you absolutely certain that you know of none who might mean your father harm?"

Nalia nodded.

"Who stands to benefit from his death?" Yoshimo asked.

"By inheritance? No, I don't think it was like that. There's still me, and Aunty, but even if they didn't know I'd managed to escape, you saw that they didn't touch her."

"(Who would blame them?)" Edwin muttered.

"Your father's records may contain useful information, yes?" Yoshimo suggested. "They are, after all, yours now; you should inspect them, I think."

"I... I suppose so," Nalia said unhappily. She picked up a piece of chicken with her fork, and stared thoughtfully at it. "Isaea will be even more intolerable now," she muttered.

"Who might this Isaea be?" Yoshimo asked.

"My betrothed, ever since I was a baby in a cradle," Nalia said. "He is a brat of a man, and I would never dream of marrying him, had I a choice! Father said he would stall the marriage as long as I wished him to, but now... Isaea will surely want to push the arrangement, and since Aunty likes him, I'll get no support from her. I will be forced into a life of quiet nobility, while he'll take over my father's holdings and treat them as though they were his all along."

Several looks were exchanged across the table.

"Is there any chance that **he** might have..?" Ember asked.

"Oh, no, no, no! Goodness, no. He may treat others as dirt, but he'd never do something like this! He is an army officer, and works at the very core of law enforcement in Athkatla! No, it is unthinkable."

"If you say so," Yoshimo said smoothly, and took a few grapes from the fruit bowl.

The awkward supper did not last much longer after that, and the group dispersed, each going to their separate rooms. It was with no small amount of relief that Ember went to her room and closed the door behind her; the day had lasted far too long for her liking, and the chance to rest without anyone to disturb her came as an extremely welcome luxury. She felt like she could sleep for a year. If she was really lucky, she'd be too tired to even dream...

Someone knocked on her door.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Who is it?" she called out, hoping it wasn't who she thought it was.

"May I speak with you?" Anomen asked timidly through the door.

She didn't reply. Couldn't he at least have waited until she'd had some rest to tell her he was leaving?

"Please, my lady... I must speak with you."

Steeling herself, she opened the door and stepped back to let him enter. "Say what you must, then," she said, crossing her arms.

He glanced nervously at her as he stepped into the room. He closed the door carefully behind him, then turned towards her. "I... I am truly sorry," he stammered. "My behaviour towards you this morning, the manner in which I spoke to you, was nothing short of reprehensible. Would you... would you allow me the chance to explain, and to beg your forgiveness?"

It was the last thing she'd expected to hear from him. "I'll listen," she said. Her heart was racing.

"I am most thankful, my lady," he said, and paused. "It was all so clear to me but a moment ago... but now, being in your presence, I scarcely know where to begin." He ran his hand through his hair. "Sometimes, you see, my accursed temper gets the better of me; to my shame, you can bear witness to that. There... there is an anger inside me, and for all my efforts, I cannot seem to control it. Every day, I try to keep my deeds and thoughts pure, that I might live up to the ideals I have always strived to follow... but it has become a battle I fear I am losing."

"And if you do lose, the Order will reject you."

"Aye," he sighed, "that is my fear. And you... I had simply thought that you were a kindred sort, my lady. I saw signs of a similar struggle in you... and thought that, as a friend, you might understand me a little."

She chuckled bitterly. "Funny thing is, I thought the same about you. That you might understand **me** a little."

He glanced at her. "You did attempt to tell me the truth, did you not? When you spoke of Gorion's death?"

"Yes. Would it have made any difference?" _Other than that you'd never have given me that rhodelia, that is._

"I... I cannot say. I like to think that I should have acted more gracefully, had I received the news from you and not from a besotted wizard. All I know is that in an instant, you became a stranger to me, one whose motivations and actions I could not hope to comprehend. I... I felt I'd opened my heart, voiced my fears, to someone I truly did not know at all. I did not know what to make of you; in truth, I still do not."

"I know," she snapped. "That wasn't hard to guess, not with you continually watching me as if you expected horns to sprout from the Bhaalspawn's forehead at any moment!"

"Such was never my intent! I... I have watched you, as you say, and tried to form my own thoughts, but I never dreamed of..." He shook his head. "Ah, but I am a fool! If you thought me so unfeeling, it is no wonder you welcomed my query with such flippant scorn!"

"Flippant? What are you talking about?"

"The question I asked you this morning was meant most sincerely!"

"So was my answer!"

They glared at each other, on the verge of another fight, but soon, Anomen's expression softened. Maybe he, too, realized how ridiculous this was, Ember wondered as her own mood settled a bit.

"I am most sorry, my lady," he said quietly. "I should have brought my cares before you far sooner. I should not have burdened you with my ill-directed anger, which was more anger at my own inability to... to be as I might wish to be. You did not deserve the brunt of my ire."

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have hit you, or told you quite so much in quite that manner. And," she said, suddenly finding it hard to not smile, "I shouldn't have called you a pile of orc dung."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as well. "I hope that is not due to such a comparison being offensive to the orc dung," he said.

"No," she chuckled. She recalled how she'd wished he'd fallen on a cow patty, and the chuckle became laughter, bursting forth from her like water breaking through ice in spring. He started to laugh as well, and before long, both of them were laughing so hard they had to sit down, she on her bed and he on a chair.

"My lady, why... why are we laughing so?" Anomen gasped once their laughing fit started to wind down.

"I don't know. Because we are a pair of fools, I imagine." It didn't really matter, not when laughing like that had felt so good, so liberating. And not when their shared mirth had all but washed away the painful knot of anger that'd been lodged in her heart lately.

"A fair assessment," he said, smiling at her. She returned the smile; it was the easiest thing in the world.

"You know... I really wasn't joking this morning," she said, returning to more serious matters. "I do resist my blood because I have to. And I have to because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will lose myself if I don't. I've mentioned before that I'd changed; that was mostly a matter of stopping myself from turning into the person my blood wants me to be."

"...I see. This, then, was the source of the discord between you and Sir Ajantis?"

"Yes." She hesitated. She really needed sleep, and no matter where she began, it'd be a long story. "It's complicated. If you like, we could talk about it tomorrow?"

His eyes lit up. "I must confess that I used to find it both puzzling and vexing that you were so unwilling to speak of your past. I would be honoured to learn anything you might wish to share with me."

"Until tomorrow, then," she said. They walked to the door; as he opened it, she noticed the bruise she'd given him, still visible underneath his beard. An idea struck her. She reached out and touched his jaw; with a burst of will, a surge of fire in her veins, and a glimmering light beneath her fingers, the bruise vanished.

He stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment. "That... By Helm, that was..."

"Something else for you to think about," she grinned. "You see, the fight between me and my blood is not one-sided."

"Indeed," he stammered, gingerly touching his healed jaw.

"I'll tell you about that, too, in the morning," she said, enjoying the awestruck look on his face far more than she supposed she ought to. "Good night, Anomen."

"Good... good night, my lady."

She smiled as she closed her door. _Let the dreams come, if they must,_ she thought. _I'll handle them!_


	43. Chapter 114: Courting Nalia

**Chapter 114: Courting Nalia**

Three days later, Nalia's father was lain to rest in the de'Arnise family crypt. The consecration and entombment itself was a quiet ceremony, presided over by a priest of Ilmater and witnessed only by Nalia and Lady Delcia Caan.

The wake, at Lady Delcia's behest and to Nalia's dismay, was held at the Roenall estate.

"Why did Aunty have to ask **them** to host it?" Nalia lamented as she, along with all of Ember's group but Edwin, headed towards the home of her betrothed. "Why couldn't she have asked the Jysstevs instead? They are closer acquaintances than are the Roenalls... Oh, I just know she did this on purpose!" Nalia sighed. "I am so glad you could come with me. I would not want to be by myself in that wolves' den - although Lord Farthington is agreeable enough, I suppose."

"It is a pity, my friend, that you cannot mourn your father in the manner you would have wished," Mazzy said.

"I have already mourned my father," Nalia said firmly. "This wake will be for others who knew him. I attend it only because it is expected."

The Roenall estate was a large mansion in the wealthiest part of town, not far from the Council building. It was a resplendent building in perfect upkeep, and the guests within were very much like it, dressed as they were in the richest and most elegantly somber outfits that gold could buy. Ember and her companions, in their plain dark tunics, looked decidedly out of place amongst the mourning nobles. Many of the lords and ladies shared a kind word with Nalia, but most of them were preoccupied with chatting and gossiping with each other, and they paid Ember's group as little heed as they did the servants who rushed to and fro with a steady supply of refreshments. Lady Delcia, dressed in a gown of the finest black silk, held court from a couch in a corner. The nobles flocked around her like bees around their queen.

"This is exactly how I expected it would be," Nalia murmured to Ember, Anomen and Yoshimo over a shared bowl of fresh fruit. "It is a comfort to Aunty, at least, but I don't know how much longer I can stand this spectacle. I wish I could -"

"Nalia, my dear!" a man exclaimed. "I have been worried sick about you!"

Nalia froze. "Oh no! It's Isaea..." She thrust the fruit bowl into Yoshimo's hands and headed towards the door, but Isaea stopped her with a firm grip on her elbow.

"No, do not turn away," he scolded her. "It has been so long since I have seen your face. You've been slumming again, haven't you? Naughty!"

"Kindly place a cork in it, Isaea," Nalia said in an icy voice. She pulled her elbow free from his grasp, and straightened her sleeve. "I do not 'slum'. Foppish fools looking for a thrill 'slum'. I help people."

"One must have one's little hobbies, I suppose," Isaea drawled, "but isn't it just about time you honoured our... ahh... agreement?"

" **Our** agreement?" Nalia snapped. "I do not recall being asked about the matter."

"The honour of your house is at stake, do you recall that?"

"A house where I am the only remaining member! Tell me, whose honour is at stake but my own?"

"Nalia, don't be ridiculous!"

Nalia looked at Isaea. "I have never felt less ridiculous in my life," she said. "Isaea, I will never marry you. I do not have to, nor do I need to, and, above all else, I do not want to!"

Isaea stared at her with a stunned look on his face. "You may be entitled to ruin your own reputation," he blurted out, "but I will not have you dragging me down as well by denying what is mine by rights! I will not stand for it!"

"And I shall not stand for you threatening the lady Nalia," Anomen said, moving to put himself between Nalia and Isaea. He fixed Isaea with a stern glare.

"It can speak! Nalia trained you well," Isaea said mockingly, and laughed when Anomen's expression deepened to a scowl. "Oh, did I provoke you? Your reaction will be violent, no doubt. On your first move I shall have my guard cut you to p-"

"What is going on here?" An elderly man who looked like a grey-haired, rounder and less shrew-faced version of Isaea approached. "Who are these... oh, hello Nalia. My deepest sympathies to you this day. Your father was a fine man."

"Thank you, Lord Roenall," Nalia replied in a slightly shaky voice. "He would be pleased to hear such praise."

"Shouldn't you be getting back to the guests, Father?" Isaea said impatiently.

"Quite, quite. All my best, my dear," Lord Roenall said, and wandered off, stopping only to ask Yoshimo to fetch him a drink.

"Nalia, descend further into these whims of yours and you shall be a laughing stock," Isaea growled once his father was out of earshot. "Come now, our combined names would carry quite the weight. What say you?"

"I say... I say take your name and eat it! I'll not be your puppet!"

"Do not anger me, Nalia..."

"She has stated her wishes," Anomen said. "Whether you respect them or not, you will let them stand!"

"Obviously she does not know what her wishes should be. Just look at her choice of company," Isaea sneered. "I will leave her be... for now. This is not finished!" He gave the small group a withering glare as a parting gift, and left them.

"I think we all can be glad Minsc didn't hear that!" Ember exclaimed.

"Young Roenall himself can be particularly glad of it, yes?" Yoshimo said.

"I am sorry for that extended exchange," Nalia said, her face white and her hands trembling with anger, "but he is such a bounder, such a... a manipulating... such a... oh, to hades with the manners, he is a complete bastard, and calling him that insults bastards everywhere!"

"Has he always been that... driven?" Anomen asked. "He appears quite intent upon enforcing your betrothal."

"He hasn't spoken quite like that before, but this is the first time I've said no directly." Nalia sighed. "I do not understand him. If he were not the son of Lord Farthington I would think him capable of almost anything."

Ember, Anomen and Yoshimo exchanged glances.

"This has been too much to take in," Nalia continued. "Let us get away from here and away from him."

Yoshimo gave her a deep bow. "This way, young lovely," he said, and offered her his arm. They walked out of the room together.

"I don't like this," Ember told Anomen. "Whatever Nalia believes, I have no problem at all imagining that Isaea might do something underhanded."

"I concur, my lady," he replied. "I do not trust that man. It would be prudent, I believe, for us to spend some further time in Lady Nalia's company."

Ember nodded. "You're right. I only hope she won't actually need us," she said. "Come, let's go find Minsc and Mazzy."

-.-.-

The following morning, Nalia received a sharply worded letter from her aunt. She read it at the breakfast table in one of the Mithrest's private sitting rooms. "Aunty was informed about my... conversation with Isaea," she told the others, "and she writes to let me know what a selfish fool I am, to not see how an association with the Roenalls would strengthen our family. She'll never understand!"

"She is a widow, yes?" Yoshimo said. "Could she not marry the illustrious young noble herself?"

Nalia sputtered, and covered her mouth to hide a giggle.

"Nalia!"

Isaea stood in the doorway, dressed in his finest army regalia. Nalia cringed at the sight of him. "What do you want now?" she asked wearily.

"I would ask that you drop this foolishness at once and return to your proper duties! Honour the commitment you made to me!"

"I made my opinion of you quite clear, Isaea. I will not change my mind."

Isaea nodded, looking as if he'd expected that reply. "Then I have little choice but to forcefully show you the error of your ways," he said, and stepped aside from the doorway. A half dozen soldiers marched in and surrounded the table. "Nalia de'Arnise, I place you under arrest by order of the Amnish army."

" **What?!** "

"You are a danger to yourself and your lands. You have not been thinking straight since your father died. It is for your own good!"

"Who are you to decide that?!" Mazzy cried. "By what right -"

"I have every right. I am an officer in the army and a liaison to the nobility. It is my function to see that everyone is well in their proper station," Isaea said. "Nalia has demonstrated that she is under some strange influence, and I must act to protect her."

"This is not justice; this is madness!" Minsc roared. "Minsc will stop you!" He sprang to his feet, ready to lunge at Isaea; acting as one, the soldiers drew their blades and pointed at the giant.

"Minsc, no!" Ember cried, and grabbed him by the arm. Thankfully, he was not so infuriated that he'd lost control of his senses, and he halted, glaring furiously at Isaea and the soldiers.

"No, you will not stop me," Isaea gloated. "I act with full sanction of the military. To attack me would mean your death." He grinned at the group. "I am simply going to walk away, and there is nothing you can do. Men, take her."

Two of the soldiers stepped forward and grabbed Nalia by the arms, while the rest of the soldiers watched Ember and her companions. Nalia struggled and swore up a storm, but the soldiers might as well have been carved from stone for all the response she got from them.

Isaea laughed. "Now, now, Nalia, what would your Aunt say if she knew you knew such language?"

"Vile insect!" Yoshimo growled. "By the honour of Yoshimo, you will not get away with this!"

"Bleat as you must, but Nalia is under arrest. You and your ilk will no longer poison her mind," Isaea said, and chuckled. "Don't take it so hard; I am just better than you. Oh, feel free to lodge a complaint to the proper authority. That... would be me." He gave the group a mock salute, and left the room, followed by Nalia and the two soldiers who held her, then by the rest of his men.

"They cannot take little Nalia! Minsc and Boo must -"

"No, Minsc! Not until we find a way to do that without getting you killed!"

"But -"

"Think of Imoen. You can't help her later if you do something too heroic now!"

"Helm's beard! Such abuse of authority is unforgivable!"

"Unfortunately, corruption of this kind is not uncommon. Even for our competent group, it will not be easy to extract young Nalia from his grasp."

"Indeed. And yet... Bah! Would that we could visit upon the boy the punishment he deserves!"

"(If only you cretins would be silent enough to let me hear myself think...)"

"Listen, friends! One of the soldiers dropped this as they left."

Mazzy held up a small, crumpled note. "There may, perhaps, be a way for us to help Nalia," she said. "Listen: ' Isaea values his name over all else. Sully that and his life is in your hands. Look to the docks and a man named Barg. Learn what you can, and bring what you find to Corgeig Axehand, who is Isaea's commander. We are monitored, and unable to act. You are not.'"

"It seems our charming friend has a dissenter in his ranks," Yoshimo said. "How surprising, no?"

"Very surprising." Ember smiled grimly. "Let's get ready. It looks like we'll be visiting the docks today."


	44. Chapter 115: Dockside Investigation

**Chapter 115: Dockside Investigation**

It was not difficult to locate the man named Barg. A few coins and some friendly exchanges in a couple of the dockside taverns led Yoshimo straight to his quarry's favourite drinking spot on one of the outer piers, and he arrived there to find a short, stocky man in filthy clothes sitting on the end of the pier. He clutched a bottle of Berduskan wine in his right hand, and waved it around as he attempted to sing a shanty.

"Yo ho ho for the lads now at rest! Yo ho ho so they say! We'll drink for the lads that have sunk to their rest, and we'll drink for the living just the same!" The man shouted more than he sang, and he finished the song with a healthy swig from his bottle.

The bartender at the Sea's Bounty had provided a description of Barg, and this drunkard matched it exactly, right down to the bottle in his hand. Feeling quite confident about the answer, Yoshimo asked, "Good evening to you, friend. Would you be Barg?"

"Let me think now... er... yes! Yes, that is my name," the man said, clearly less certain of his own identity than Yoshimo was. "Oooh, my head is barely on my legs today..."

Yoshimo grinned pleasantly. "I see you enjoy a drink or two along with your fresh sea air?"

"You... you have that right, sir. Never met a bottle I didn't like. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Of course not," Yoshimo assured him, "especially when it comes to Berduskan wine. Pity it is so expensive, no?"

Barg smiled happily, and drank another swig. "Not for me, it ain't."

"Oh?"

"It's all a simple business arrangement. An honourable trade amidst ourselves. I do work for Isaea, and Isaea foots my bill." Barg hiccuped. "He's a right gent, if a bit too much fop in the britches."

"A very convenient arrangement," Yoshimo said, grasping the tentative lead. "What is it you do for Isaea?"

"Pirating, of course. Oh, the others'll be all quiet about it, but I'm right proud. Keeps them merchants on their toes." Barg laughed; Yoshimo laughed with him. "Of course that Isaea is into other things too," Barg continued, "but me and the boys don't go in for slavery and such. Me, I've never even talked to Dirth."

"Who is he?"

"Their slaver contact. Hey, what do you suppose they pay to get the guard to look the other way? Must be thousands to overlook it. Wow, that's a lot... Anyway, I've never even talked to Dirth even though I see him every day."

"Where do you see him?"

"Up at the Sea's Bounty, where I get my wine." Barg hiccuped again, and held out his bottle to Yoshimo. "Wanna drink?"

"No thank you, friend, but thank you for your assistance," Yoshimo said. "That is more than I needed to know."

"Almost more than I know my... myself," Barg said, nodding in agreement; whether with Yoshimo or with himself, only the gods knew. "Good travels to you, stranger."

-.-.-

Dirth the slaver contact was lingering by the bar at the Sea's Bounty, where he, as the bartender informed Yoshimo, usually spent his evenings. Yoshimo thanked the bartender, ordered an ale, and sat down to wait at a corner table with Ember and Minsc, who served as his backup. They talked a little, ate a little, drank a little, and did nothing to draw attention to themselves; with their weapons gathered in the corner behind the table, Minsc wearing a plain tunic instead of his splendid new dragonscale armour, and all three of them wrapped in old cloaks, nobody who gave them as much as a second glance could think them anything but a party of road-weary travellers.

Over the course of the evening, Dirth never stirred from his spot. He was approached twice; each time, quiet words were exchanged, along with small bags of coin, but otherwise he merely sat there, nursing his single ale and glancing cautiously around the inn. He was not a strongly built man, but nonetheless, he looked like he would be able to hold his own in a brawl. He was dressed simply, and his clothes and equipment were worn with use, but it was clear he maintained them in the best possible condition. This was no common dock rat, Yoshimo decided, and touched his lips to his own mug of ale.

It was almost midnight when Dirth finally stood up and left the inn, leaving behind a single copper for the barkeeper. It was time to act.

Yoshimo waited just long enough to allow Dirth to get a comfortable lead without disappearing from sight. "One minute," he instructed Ember and Minsc, and set off after the slaver. Moving with the shadows and taking care not to make a sound, Yoshimo trailed him to a ramshackle house on the dockside. When he paused to unlock the door, Yoshimo stepped forward and made himself known.

"Hm? Who's there?" Dirth saw Yoshimo, and scowled. "Move along, stranger."

Getting a happy drunkard to loosen his tongue had been easy; Dirth was neither drunk nor happy, nor in a profession where one would get far with a careless mouth. Yoshimo would have to pick his approach carefully. "I wanted to speak with you," he said. "We have a mutual friend."

"I doubt this is so. Who is it that you claim you know?"

"Isaea Roenall. Certainly you know him."

Dirth stared at Yoshimo. He gave a short, harsh laugh. "Well, indeed I do know Isaea Roenall. I know him well enough that he would never tell our dealings to another person!" He drew his sword. "Who are you? Some trussed-up guard trying to trick me? Probably have the place surrounded, don't you!"

"Not at all, my friend," Yoshimo said calmly. Ember and Minsc would be hiding in the darkness behind him, that much was true; but two people could not, strictly speaking, surround the place. "A simple exchange of words, that is all I ask for. You may even find it quite worth your while."

Dirth glared at Yoshimo, no doubt ready to give him what he thought would be a scathing and terrifying retort, but then his expression changed. "You're Kara-Turan," he said. You... I know who you are, you worthless piece of scum! You were in the party that killed Captain Haegan and his men, were you not?!"

An unexpected complication. "I know of no Captain Haegan," Yoshimo started.

"You were clearly described to me! A Helmite, a girl, a giant, and a Kara-Turan!" Dirth roared. "Come for another slaver, have you? Well, I'll not go without a fight!"

"Very well," Yoshimo said. He drew his katana, assumed a defensive stance, and raised his left hand. By the time he'd deflected Dirth's first attack, the girl and the giant had joined the fray, and whether or not Dirth wondered if the Helmite was going to show up as well, he did not have had time to speak of it before he was overpowered.

"I suppose they can't all be as forthcoming as Barg," Ember muttered, looking down at the unconscious slaver. He was wounded, and Minsc had dealt his head a blow he would not soon forget, but he would live.

"It is high time this scoundrel tasted the fist of justice!" Minsc announced.

"I suspected it might come to this, but I hoped otherwise," Yoshimo said, and rummaged through Dirth's pockets. He found a few coin pouches which all held silver, a dagger, a worn but clean pocket kerchief, and a small vial that he suspected contained a drug; roughly what he'd expected to find. "Ah, well. His home may reveal secrets his pockets will not, yes?" He opened the door, and cast a quick glance into the house. Nobody else was within. Good.

Together with Minsc, Yoshimo dragged Dirth into the house and tied him to a chair. The place was almost as sparsely furnished as it was populated; other than the chair that Dirth was now firmly attached to, there was a simple bed, a table with a candlestick upon it, two more chairs, a shelf that held a few food supplies, spare candles, tinder and a whetstone, a small closet that contained nothing but clothing, a shelf of toiletries, and an ewer and washbasin upon a stool. Nothing on the floor, nothing on the walls... Ah. Four steps were enough to bring Yoshimo to the far wall, where he firmly pressed his thumb into what would, to the untrained eye, appear to be nothing but a knothole. With a slight click, a section of the wall came loose.

"Amazing!" Minsc gasped. "Did you see that, Boo?"

Yoshimo smiled; as always, Minsc provided a most appreciative audience for his expertise. He looked in through the opening and into a second room, dominated by a large table that was covered by myriad of documents, all neatly piled into stacks. A large bag lay on the floor under the table. Leaning into the hidden room, Yoshimo pulled the drawstring that held the bag closed. Gold spilled out, clinking and clattering on the rough floorboards.

"It seems our friend here is quite skilled at what he does," Yoshimo said. "Come, let us see what he has in his library." He lifted the stacks of documents out from the room and handed them to Ember, who put them on the table in the main room. Most of them were lists of merchandise, records of buying and selling, with the occasional descriptor such as 'young', 'strong', 'female', or 'Sembia'. It could as easily be lists of cattle trading; not a single word spoke of the merchandise as being human. Yoshimo couldn't help but be a little impressed.

"Well, I found Isaea," Ember said, and chuckled quietly. "He's even put his family seal on it!" She held up a claim of acquisition, neatly signed and stamped with a Roenall signet ring. "I wonder what his... Wait." She pointed at Isaea's signature. "Look at the 'R' in 'Roenall'. Doesn't it remind you of the initial on the documents Lehtinan had at the Copper Coronet?"

It did.

He looked meaningfully at her. "If they match..."

"I think they will," she said. A vicious grin spread across her face. "By the gods, we may just have nailed the bastard!"

Working quickly, they bundled up the documents in one of Dirth's tunics, to bring to the Copper Coronet for comparison. When they were half done, Dirth groaned feebly; it would not be long until he regained consciousness.

"Boo is wondering, what should we do about the evil scoundrel?" Minsc asked.

Ember frowned. "If we were to kill him now, it'd be murder," she said. "But we can't leave him here. And he should be looked into just as much as Isaea, if not more."

"Our little comparison may damn him as well as Isaea, no?" Yoshimo said.

"You're right," Ember grinned. She walked over to Dirth and said a cantrip over him. "He'll sleep longer, now. If you two can get him to the Coronet, I'm sure Hendak will help keep him locked up while we work. At the very least, we should be able find someone official who'd care to ask him about Isaea."

-.-.-

By dawn, Dirth was awake, cursing and complaining as loudly as was possible with a concussion and broken ribs; fortunately, he was locked in one of the old gladiator holding cells, where nobody would hear him. As Yoshimo understood it, Hendak considered it poetic justice.

By midmorning, the group had compared most of Dirth's records to Lehtinan's notes, with spectacular results. Not only did the 'R' on the notes match Isaea's signature perfectly, but they'd found over a dozen matches between Dirth's merchandise records and Lehtinan's detailed, if nameless, instructions. A listing labelled 'Sembia' became a group of gladiators, three 'female' items became courtesans, a claim of acquisition became instructions to use Roenall funds to purchase Calimshite slaves from a supplier's compound. Put together, Barg's story and the two sets of documents painted a decidedly unflattering picture of Isaea Roenall.

Yoshimo could barely wait to share that picture with the rest of the city.


	45. Chapter 116: Law and Order

**Chapter 116: Law and Order**

In his younger days, Lord Corgeig Axehand had been a renowned fighter; he'd earned his name when he, armed with only an axe, defended his home village from a group of marauding ogres. He had served Amn through many wars, had led the men under him to many a victory, and had gained his title as a reward for his service to Athkatla during the Time of Troubles. But now, he was a man well past his prime. He served from within an office rather than in front of his troops, and access to that office was guarded by a stern, humourless clerk.

"Lord Axehand does not deal directly with the general public," the clerk said monotonously when Ember and her group approached him. "You may present your concerns to Isaea Roenall. Good business to you."

"You don't understand!" Ember said. "Isaea Roenall is the one we want to talk about. We have to speak to Lord Axehand himself."

The clerk sighed with pointed exasperation. "You may leave a written statement regarding the nature of your concerns. If Lord Axehand deems it worthy of his attention, an audience will be scheduled for you. Good sir, kindly step away from that door, or I shall have to summon the guards."

"Very well," Yoshimo said, and moved away from Lord Axehand's impeccably polished office door.

"How do we know that such a statement would indeed reach Lord Axehand?" Anomen demanded.

"Do you question my integrity?" the clerk asked icily.

The door to Lord Axehand's office slammed open, and Lady Delcia Caan stormed out, wearing an expression that reminded Ember of a thundercloud. "Such incompetence in this day and age! Never have I seen the likes of it!" the lady fumed. "But what else is to be expected from a mercenary upstart?" She looked straight at Ember and her group, and seemed at first to not see them at all, but after a moment she appeared to recognize them. "Oh, it is you again," she huffed derisively. "You must have come on Nalia's behalf. Is it duty and decency that brings you, or is it merely that she has not yet paid you for your services?"

"Nalia's Aunty should know better than that!" Minsc grumbled. "We come for justice, as all good heroes should!"

"Hmpf!" Lady Delcia left in a flurry of lace and jewelry, declaring loudly that the magistrate would hear of this outrage.

A heavy-built elderly man with grey hair, sharp eyes, and a weary look on his face, appeared in the office doorway. "You are associates of Lady Nalia de'Arnise?" he asked.

"We are, Lord Axehand," Mazzy said.

"I will tell you what I told Lady Delcia," Lord Axehand said. "Lady Nalia is in protective custody for her own sake. I have it on the authority of officer Roenall that Lady Nalia is most distraught after the death of her father, and is liable to do harm unto herself or others. He has placed her under his care as a preventative measure."

"But he -" Ember started.

"I am familiar with the young woman in question, and I can assure you that no matter what you think Lady Nalia has said of her motivations, officer Roenall is the more credible claimant. Now, I thank you for the concern you have shown, but in this instance it is misguided. Good business."

"Your assumption is incorrect; we did not come to speak of Nalia de'Arnise," Edwin said, interrupting the lord's retreat back into his office. "Our concerns lie with the conduct of one Isaea Roenall. (And the sooner those concerns are yours instead of mine, the better.)"

Lord Axehand's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Are you suggesting that one of my officers has behaved inappropriately?"

"My lord, not only has Isaea Roenall arranged to have Lady Nalia de'Arnise incarcerated in order to force her submission to an arranged marriage," Mazzy said, "but he also finances pirates. We learned of this from one of his hirelings, a man named Barg."

"A scathing claim, but it is not to be trusted," Lord Axehand said, looking very annoyed. "Barg is a known scoundrel, and his testimony is beyond questionable. I will not have one of my finest officers insulted by pursuing such ill-founded allegations."

"We also have written proof that Isaea Roenall deals in slaves, my lord," Anomen said.

Lord Axehand looked at each member of the group in turn. "Step into my office," he said.

As they followed the lord into his office, Ember noticed to her amusement that the clerk's stiff, formal expression had been replaced by one of wide-eyed curiosity.

-.-.-

Lord Axehand waited until Anomen, as the last of the group, closed the door behind him, then looked sternly at them all. "Any hint of association with the slave trade can ruin a man," he said. "If you are to besmirch the name of one of my officers, I hope you have made certain you can support your claims."

"Indeed," Mazzy said. "Minsc, if you would?"

Minsc unslung a satchel from his back and pulled out a bundle of documents. He placed them in an uneven row on Lord Axehand's desk.

"Until recently, many slaves were trafficked through a base in the slums, connected to the Copper Coronet," Ember started.

"I have heard something of that matter," the lord said. "As I understand it, the former slaves run the inn now, and the slaver base was cleared out by adventurers."

"It was a good day for justice!" Minsc announced. "Right, Boo?"

"You are correct," Ember told the lord, who was giving Minsc a bewildered look. "Many notes were found, detailing slave operations, but none of them seemed to have any useful information as to where to find the rest of the network."

"Such notes should have been turned over to the authorities," Lord Axehand said.

"Begging your pardon, Lord Axehand, but the guard does not have the strongest reputation in the slums," Ember said. "Hendak preferred to use the notes to try to find the rest of his people." She held up one of the notes. "However, do you recognize this initial?"

"It does bear a marked resemblance to Isaea Roenall's hand. But -"

Yoshimo held up another document. "How about this? This is his full signature, in his hand, no? It even has his family seal."

The lord examined the signature closely. "This does indeed appear to be his," he admitted.

"If you would, my lord, compare the content of these." Ember handed the lord the document, which spoke of the Roenall estate purchasing three items, all marked 'f.' and from Calimshan, and the note, which spoke of three young Calimshite females who, by the order of 'R', were to be taken to the Copper Coronet to be used as pleasure slaves. "You might also want to compare the transaction dates, so to speak," she added helpfully.

"Or these," Edwin said, and handed the lord a second set of matched documents. He then rearranged the rest of the documents on the desk, all while muttering under his breath about Minsc's utterly inferior and nonexistent archiving skills.

"The detailed notes are from the Copper Coronet," Ember said. "The purchase orders are from the hidden archives of a man named Dirth, whom Barg implicated as being a slaver contact. His reaction when questioned didn't exactly give us reason to believe otherwise."

"And where is this Dirth now?" Lord Axehand asked. His face was growing quite red.

"At the Copper Coronet, in the custody of Hendak," Mazzy said. "Considering the circumstances, we believed it would be unwise to turn him over to Isaea."

"The rest of Dirth's bookkeeping is also at the inn, my lord," Anomen said. "We have brought only what pertained to Isaea Roenall."

"We have this, too!" Minsc said, and gave Lord Axehand the handwritten note that had been left for them by one of Isaea's soldiers.

The lord spent several minutes scrutinizing the documents. He did not say anything, but his expression grew darker and darker as he read. Finally, he put the whole bundle aside, and turned to Ember.

"If your allegations are true, we owe you a debt," he said, his face stiff with anger. "Such bad apples are a very destructive influence on our effectiveness. This is more than enough to warrant an official investigation. I will have Isaea summoned here, and we will see what course must be taken. And," he added, "I will speak with Lady Nalia myself."

-.-.-

That afternoon, Nalia was released into the custody of her aunt, while Isaea was stripped of his rank and placed in house arrest for the duration of the investigation against him. The guards escorting Isaea to the Roenall estate could easily have been mistaken for his regular group if not for the way Isaea screamed, ranted, and complained as they moved through the streets.

"The whining makes him seem even less of a man, doesn't it?" Nalia remarked, watching Isaea's departure from a window in the second floor of the courthouse.

"Nalia, dear, such a thing would hardly be possible," Lady Delcia said coolly. Her opinion of Isaea Roenall had been forever reversed by the events of the past two days, and she wasted no opportunity to remind her surroundings of what a worthless, undeserving creature her niece's kidnapper was.

"(Even now, I am more of a man than that worm ever was,)" Edwin muttered.

"It isn't fair," Nalia said.

"What isn't?" Ember asked. Looking out of another window, she watched a second group of soldiers set out for the Copper Coronet, where they were to retrieve Dirth and his records. Hopefully, they'd be able to get the slaver to talk without having to offer him too much of an incentive, or without having to kill him.

"If Isaea were just a commoner," Nalia said, "he would be in a cell already."

"He will be in one soon -" Yoshimo started.

"But not soon enough!" Nalia cried. "Don't the people have enough problems without... without scum like him ruining their lives? He should have been exposed a long time ago, and if not for his rank and status, he probably would have been!" She pulled the drapes shut and stepped away from the window. "I have been thinking. I've been doing what I could - what I thought I could - for the needy, sidestepping conventions, but it's not enough. I cannot truly improve their lot by merely working around the rules. No, the rules need to be changed, and it needs to start at the top."

"Nalia?" Lady Delcia asked.

"Aunty, I've made up my mind. I am going to earn myself a seat on the Council. "

Lady Delcia stared at her niece in stunned silence, and Ember wondered if she was going to throw a fit of rage, but instead, a smile blossomed on the lady's face. For a moment, Lady Delcia Caan almost looked beautiful. "Your father would be proud of you, my dear," she said.

The ladies' carriage arrived, and Nalia and her aunt readied themselves to leave. "You served my niece uncommonly well," Lady Delcia said. "You have earned my gratitude."

"It was our pleasure," Mazzy said.

"First, you helped save my home, and then, you saved me. I can never thank you enough. Please, accept these," Nalia said with a smile, and handed Anomen a small pouch of gemstones.

"Lady Nalia," he protested, "we could not -"

"Please. I insist. Aunty and I are more than secure, financially," Nalia said. "All we need to rebuild our home is more hands. If... if any of you should wish to, I would be more than happy to offer you further employment. In the future, I mean. After you've found your friend again."

"You are most kind, Lady Nalia," Anomen said. "I wish you well."

"Nalia," her aunt called from the doorway, "don't dawdle!"

"Yes, Aunty. Thank you, all of you, and may the gods be with you!" Nalia took everyone by the hand, petted Boo one last time, and hurried to her impatiently waiting aunt. She stopped in the doorway to wave at the group. "Farewell!" she cried, smiling happily, and was gone.

"Boo liked her," Minsc said, a little wistfully.

"As always, good Minsc, your hamster is an excellent judge of character," Yoshimo said. "Someone like her might make a formidable impact on the Council, yes?"

Mazzy smiled. "Especially if she takes after her family."


	46. Chapter 117: Blind Faith

**Chapter 117: Blind Faith**

Large drops of rain danced across the roof of the Copper Coronet as Ember and her companions finished their supper. The impending thunderstorm was the culmination of a long, hot, and exceedingly muggy day; a day that Ember had nothing to show for but another fruitless visit to Gaelan Bayle. Once again, he had no news and no departure date to offer them, and Ember was in no mood to be grateful for the one bit of information he did provide: their ship was not in yet. They needed a seagoing vessel to reach Imoen, and the one captain who could and would be willing to bring them to Spellhold was still out at sea. Or so Bayle claimed.

"Yoshimo," she asked as the Kara-Turan pushed his empty plate aside, "are you **still** certain that Bayle can be trusted?"

"He is true to his word, or I am not Yoshimo," he replied confidently. "And, my friend, think of this: if it were a simple task to reach Imoen, it would have been cheaper, yes?" He stood up from the table and gave them all a slight bow. "Goodnight, my friends, and do not worry. Everything will play out as it should."

Edwin left soon thereafter, followed by Mazzy and Minsc - the latter proclaiming that Boo needed his rest - leaving only Ember and Anomen at the table.

"I regret that it is not otherwise, but it seems there is little we can do but heed Yoshimo's advice," Anomen said.

She looked across the table at him, and sighed. "I know, but they're not making it easy," she said, and smiled wistfully. "At this rate, you'll be knighted before I get to go after Imoen."

Anomen stiffened slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I wish I shared your faith in me, my lady," he said hesitantly. "Tis true that I am rapidly approaching my Test, but... the more that time passes, the more I feel that I am not worthy to join the Order."

"Don't talk like that," she said. "You're a good man. If you follow your conscience, how can they refuse you?"

He looked at her. "Because I do not trust my own conscience."

"Oh." Not knowing what to say, she glanced down at their hands, a few inches apart on the tabletop.

"Sometimes I think it would be so much easier to just give up the Order and spare myself the worry," he murmured.

"No. I know how important the Order is to you. Stay vigilant and steel yourself, or you'll always regret it," she said. "If... if you like, you could go to Arnise and assist Nalia while you wait."

A wounded expression crossed his face. "Nay, my lady."

"She'll need help finding that Stronger -"

"Lady Nalia has the support of lord Axehand, the means to hire other mercenaries, and the possibility that Isaea might have been involved. Your friend has naught but you and your companions. My lady, as I told you before, I will not break my pledge to assist her." He took her hand. "Do not think I do not understand your offer," he said to the tabletop, "but you need not worry. If I fail, it will be through my own defects, not through any association with, er..."

"Addled men and wizards and scoundrels and strange women," she suggested lightly. "Isn't that how Sir Cadril put it?"

"Indeed," he said. A smile lurked at the corners of his mouth.

She smiled at him. "Maybe you should heed Yoshimo's words in regard to your Test, too."

"You are correct, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. "My Test will come soon enough, and I doubt there is much I can do to rectify my failings in the time that remains. What will come will come." He slowly let go of her hand, and stood up from the table. "May I bid you a good night, my lady?"

"Good night, Anomen," she said, and watched him as he left the room. He might not trust his conscience, but she knew, just knew, that he had no reason not to. There was no doubt in her mind that before he knew it, he'd be off doing the Order's work, just as he'd always dreamed.

And she'd never see him again.

-.-.-

The following morning, a courier showed up with a note for Anomen. It was not from the Order of the Radiant Heart; it was from the Temple of Helm, and it was an offer of employment.

"It would appear that the Temple has learned somewhat of the fate of the missing clergymen," Anomen said, reading the note," and they require the talents of a group such as ours to proceed with their investigations. As I am one of their number, they have turned to us first, preferring known faces to those of utter strangers." He looked at Ember. "My lady?"

"Why not? We have time to spare, after all," Ember said dryly. "Let's hear them out."

After breakfast, the group readied themselves and headed to the temple. Once there, they were greeted by an acolyte and led into a smaller chamber, where they were soon joined by a man Anomen named, in a hushed whisper, as the High Watcher. Wearing immaculate armour and with a red cloak draped over his shoulders, the High Watcher looked almost as imposing as the large statue of Helm that stood in the middle of the temple.

"Good, you have arrived," the High Watcher said. "I am High Watcher Oisig, and I welcome to the house of the Great Guardian."

"Thank you, High Watcher," Ember said. "What would you ask of us?"

"The task I ask will be arduous, but you seem capable," he said. "You have, no doubt, witnessed the influx of blind cultists in the streets as of late?"

Ember nodded. She'd seen many a fanatic preaching on the streets since her arrival in Athkatla; mostly, they were Beshabans and Cyricists, but lately, a number of blind men and women had joined them. From what she'd heard, they blinded themselves, as their eyes supposedly lied to them. "We have," she said. "They blind themselves, do they not?"

"They do. They also claim the gods are false, and that only a being they call the Unseeing Eye is worthy of worship," the High Watcher said in a grim voice. "If what they preach were true, it would upset a delicate balance, but we have no reason to believe it is so; nothing points to the emergence of a new deity. Thus, if they are lying, their cult can only serve to hurt those they bilk into following them." He sighed. "We have lost some of our younger faithful, as have the other churches, and it has been discovered that many, if not all of them, have fallen prey to this cult."

"Arvoreen's mercy," Mazzy murmured.

"This brings us to the task at hand: He of the Unsleeping Eyes must know of this cult. The blindness they promote is abhorrent to Helm, as is their treachery, if they are false. I ask you to investigate and identify what is happening. It is known that they hide underground, and that they travel through the sewers, but we have not yet uncovered their lair. Find them, and uncover their true nature."

"(Sewers?)" Edwin grumbled.

"A dirty place for dirty liars! But they are not out of the reach of the cleansing sword of Justice!" Minsc boomed.

"Indeed," the High Watcher said, giving Minsc a curious look.

"We accept," Ember said. "Tell us where to go, and we will return with the answers you seek."

The High Watcher nodded with satisfaction. "May the Great Guard give light to all wrongs against you," he said. "An ally of Helm and servant of Torm will assist you in this matter. Seek Sir Keldorn Firecam at the Order of the Radiant Heart; he shall serve with you, and will lead you onwards. Faith guide you all."

The group took their leave of the High Watcher, and headed for the nearby headquarters of the Order. Mazzy was elated. "I never dreamed that I might one day get the chance to work with Sir Keldorn Firecam!" she exclaimed happily.

"I have heard a little of him," Ember said, remembering the name from Ajantis's talk of his mentors. "He was described to me as a great man."

"I do not doubt that Sir Keldorn has looked into this cult on his own," Anomen said. "He is a veteran paladin of the Order, and a fine warrior... if somewhat arrogant and over-pious."

"Coming from you, those words sound like compliments," Yoshimo said, and grinned at Anomen, who scowled but said nothing. "This Sir Keldorn must be an incredible knight."

The Order's headquarters were located in a very large building, fully as grand as many of the temples that surrounded it. The order's banner flew from two posts set above the main gate, which was guarded by two well-armoured young men, and an older, greyhaired man, dressed in bright red armour and carrying a massive sword by his side, could be seen standing in a small courtyard just within the gate.

"We need not go far to locate Sir Keldorn," Anomen said. "That is he."

Noticing the group, the greyhaired man strode towards them, moving with more strength and purpose than most men would even in their twenties. "Greetings! I had hoped you would come," the man said, visibly pleased to see them. "I am Keldorn, servant of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Your assistance in this matter is appreciated."

"We are honoured to work by your side," Mazzy said.

Sir Keldorn smiled, and gave Mazzy a polite bow. "And I to work by yours, I am certain," he said. "Anomen, if you would introduce me to your companions?"

Anomen did as asked, and named the other group members - referring to Edwin as Edwina - to Sir Keldorn. The paladin took everyone's hand in turn; his handshake was firm and steady.

"Now, then," Sir Keldorn said, "we must brave the filth of the sewers to find the filth of the cult. If you are ready, we may set out immediately."

"Minsc and Boo stand ready!" Minsc announced. "Boo's hamster senses are very keen; he will find the evil blind men for you in no time!"

The paladin smiled; to Ember's surprise, he seemed completely unperturbed by Minsc's enthusiasm. Was Sir Keldorn accustomed to such sights as Minsc and Boo, or had he known... of course, he must have known! If he'd read Sir Cadril and Anomen's report from the Windspear Hills, he'd have a fairly good notion of the group Anomen was travelling with, and, if anything, the only surprise would be that Edwin was a woman.

There was little dissent other than Edwin's usual mumbled complaints, and no cause for delay. The paladin assessed their gear and supplies, had some additional gear brought from within the building, and led the group around the corner, into a nondescript little alley that looked as if it received very little traffic. There was a sewer grate in the middle of the alley; judging by scuff marks around its edges, it had been moved recently. Sir Keldorn enlisted the aid of Minsc and Anomen, and working together, the three men easily lifted the grate, revealing a brick-lined opening with a simple ladder of blackened steel rungs bolted to its wall. The bottom lay in darkness.

"Another dank hole with which to improve my mood," Edwin grumbled. "Joy."


	47. Chapter 118: Doubt

**Chapter 118: Doubt**

The sewers were fully as unpleasant as Ember could have imagined, replete with rats, rotting debris, stagnant water, and mould. Her only consolations were the narrow but dry walkways that bordered every reeking channel, and the steady, unwavering glow of Edwin's magelights.

For the first hour, as they moved towards the older parts of Athkatla's sewer system, they encountered nothing larger than rats and slimes. Sir Keldorn spoke quietly to Anomen as they walked; from what little Ember could catch of their words, it was about the Order and Anomen's impending Test, and from the look of it, Anomen was starting to get agitated. Their hushed conversation ended when the group entered a tunnel that had fallen into disuse a long time ago. A group of five heavily armed ruffians lay in hiding there; when they spotted new arrivals, they postured threateningly and demanded a thousand gold for safe passage, and when they were denied, they attacked. To a man, they were destroyed.

"It always saddens me to see what depths men will lower themselves to," Sir Keldorn said as he wiped his blade clean. "Take care to seal all wounds," he added, looking at Anomen as he spoke. "I would not have anyone get an infection from this place."

"You need not remind me of my duties, Sir Keldorn," Anomen said gruffly, and set about his business.

While she healed Mazzy's cuts and scratches, Ember glanced at Sir Keldorn. Anomen was tending to a shallow gash on Yoshimo's shoulder, and the paladin was watching him intently as he worked.

Why?

Did he think as little of Anomen as Sir Cadril had? Or was he evaluating Anomen's performance? He was, after all, one of the Order's instructors...

Frowning, Ember turned her attention to a large bruise that was blossoming around Minsc's eye. Whatever reasons Sir Keldorn might have, she didn't like it one bit.

-.-.-

The breakthrough came not too long after the group's encounter with the ruffians. Minsc was talking with Mazzy and Sir Keldorn about stomping evil when he suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, looked around, and tentatively sniffed the air. "Boo says the air smells different that way," he announced, pointing down a dark tunnel that looked like every other tunnel in that part of the sewers. There was a grate set in the wall, covering what looked like just another storm drain, but there were some slight scuffmarks around it, indicating that it had been opened recently. Minsc tugged at the grate. It opened easily, revealing a tunnel that bore no signs of ever seeing a storm flood, or indeed of having been intended to serve that purpose. Several sets sets of footprints were visible in the dusty sludge that covered the tunnel floor, which was quite flat and more than wide enough for two to walk abreast. It seemed to be sloping downwards, and turned right about fifteen feet within the grate.

Yoshimo entered the tunnel and moved carefully down it, getting just out of sight of the party before he returned. "We are no longer in the sewers," he said with a grin.

"Excellent work! Your hamster's senses are commendable," Sir Keldorn said to Minsc, who beamed with pride.

They followed the tunnel through several twists and turns until it merged with a larger system; a maze of corridors lined with rubble-filled niches and decorated with crumbling murals. Occasionally, one of the niches held a recognizable sarcophagus.

"Catacombs," Mazzy murmured. "Long lost and forgotten... how old must not this place be?"

"The perfect hiding place, no?" Yoshimo said. "Unfortunately, our quarry has not been gracious enough to stick to a single path." He pointed at the trails of footprints, which diverged to follow several different paths between the ancient graves. Two of those paths, close together, seemed to have been used more often than the rest, and the group carefully moved along them, using the crisscrossing corridors to make sure they never lost touch with each other as they progressed.

It was never entirely quiet in the catacombs. Here and there, water trickled and dripped from the rocks above. A faint chittering that reminded Ember of bats came from the distance, and nearby, rats squeaked and scurried away as the group approached. Another sign that they were on the right track, Ember mused; the rats would not have been in the catacombs without anything for them to scavenge, and unless there was someone else living there, the creatures would have found nothing but rocks, ancient pottery, and dust.

Not long after that, another sound was added: a faint murmur that sounded a lot like human voices performing a steady chant somewhere in the distance.

"Wait here," Yoshimo said, and left with Minsc to scout ahead, a single magelight trailing them. The rest of the group settled down by a crumbled wall. Ember sat down beside the wall and rested her hand on a jagged slab of rock that looked like it had once been part of the lid of a sarcophagus. She let her fingers trace the edges of the broken surface, and her thoughts went to the people who had once lain buried in the graves around her. Who had they been; what had they looked like? How long ago did they live? How did they die?

"You appear lost in thought, young lady," Sir Keldorn's voice said beside her.

"Just thinking about those who once lay buried here," she said quietly. "I wonder who they were."

"This place hails from a different age... a different Athkatla," the paladin said. "As their descendants, we can wonder if their qualities might live on in us, but certainty is forever beyond our knowledge; the bridge between us and them cannot be traversed."

 _'The bridge has fallen, and ends in death,'_ Ember thought, recalling an ancient riddle she'd heard back in Candlekeep, a lifetime ago...

"I understand that you once travelled with Sir Ajantis," Sir Keldorn continued.

She shifted uncomfortably. "I... yes," she said. "We hunted bandits together on the Sword Coast. I considered him a good friend, as did Minsc."

"Sir Cadril gave me an account of what happened in the Windspear Hills. I am sorry you lost a friend in such a fashion."

"Thank you," she said. "When we... when Ajantis died, Minsc was devastated. It was hard for him to understand how he could have been tricked like that, even by a dragon."

"And now he wears Firkraag's scales."

Ember couldn't keep a small grin from crossing her face. "He was quite pleased when his suit was made," she said. "He said it'd let evil everywhere know what would happen to those who tried to play tricks on Minsc and Boo."

The paladin chuckled. "I cannot say that surprises me," he said. "Your large friend is quite a character."

"That he is," Ember said. She glanced around; Anomen was sitting some distance away, going through his equipment. He was almost certainly out of earshot. "Sir Keldorn," she said, lowering her voice a little, "may I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Is it customary to subject your squires to such scrutiny before their Test?"

He looked at her.

"Young lady," he said, "you misjudge my intentions towards the lad. I wish only to help him find his path, if I can." He sighed. "Anomen struggles under the yoke of his father, though he will never admit to it."

"None of us get to choose our parents," she grumbled, far from satisfied with the paladin's response; how could making Anomen even more nervous about his Test possibly help him?

"Indeed, we do not," Sir Keldorn said. He took his leave of her, and went to talk with Mazzy.

-.-.-

A short while later, Yoshimo and Minsc returned, and they were not alone. Minsc carried a figure in his arms; an emaciated man who looked barely alive. He was dressed in rags, covered in cuts and sores, and there were only empty sockets where his eyes should have been.

"Gods, have mercy!" Ember exclaimed in dismay as Minsc gently put the man down. "What happened to him?"

"We do not know," Yoshimo said. "We found him laying on the ground some distance from here, near the outskirts of these catacombs."

"Water..." the man gasped. Mazzy hurried forward with a waterskin, and helped him drink from it.

"He is one of the cultists we were sent to stop, then," Edwin said in a sour tone.

"That may be," Ember said, kneeling beside the man and running her hands over his sunken chest, "but right now he's just someone who is dying from thirst and hunger." She looked pointedly at the wizard; Edwin's disdainful expression changed into something unreadable, and he turned to busy himself with something in his pack. Ember returned her focus to the dying man and said a spell of invigoration over him, trying to stoke the waning flames of life within his body; beside her, Anomen chanted a minor healing spell. Minsc brought a blanket from his bedroll, and wrapped it around the man for warmth.

Edwin approached. "Give him this," the wizard grumbled. To Ember's surprise, he handed Mazzy a bowl of shredded dried fruit and bread, soaked in water. Before anyone could thank him for bringing food, he stomped back to where he'd been sitting.

With nourishment, warmth, and tending, the man began to revive a little. "Th-thank you, strangers," he said hoarsely between two small mouthfuls of food.

"Who are you?" Sir Keldorn asked, his voice somehow stern and gentle at the same time. "Are you a follower of the Unseeing Eye?"

"No, my lord, I am not. Not... anymore," the man rasped.

"What happened to you?" Mazzy asked.

"I am Sassar," he said. "I... was an acolyte of Lathander. I served as I could, but... I never felt good enough, never quite right. I heard of the Unseeing Eye... it would show me the truth. So I followed. I gave it my mind... my eyes." A sob escaped him.

"This Unseeing Eye... what kind of creature is it?" Ember asked.

"A beholder. As eyeless as we."

"A renegade," Edwin muttered. "Cast out and blinded by other beholders for wizardry, more likely than not. (Narrow-minded creatures, despite such brains...)"

"It sees with its mind... and when we gave ourselves to it, so did we," Sassar said wearily. "Through our minds, it grows stronger... It thinks that if it gathers enough followers, it can become a true god."

"This cannot come to pass," Sir Keldorn said in a grim voice.

Sassar nodded in agreement. "It is a thing of evil. I managed to break free of it, but the moment I did, I lost the senses it gave me. I fled into the catacombs, and was lost... but if I had not done so, they would have thrown me into the Pit of the Faithless." He laughed hoarsely. "A far quicker death, that!"

"How can we stop it?" Mazzy asked.

"You... you would fight it? Have you an army, then?"

"I have fought beholders before," Sir Keldorn said. "An entire army against a psionic creature would only complicate matters, but a group of our size, and with a wizard, may well persevere." He looked questioningly at Ember. "What say you?"

Ember felt the eyes of her companions upon her. Minsc and Mazzy fairly radiated eagerness, while Anomen's and Yoshimo's expressions were more unreadable; Edwin feigned boredom, but even he was looking at her, glancing sideways at her from under the long eyelashes that'd come with his transformation.

"Do you have a plan?" she asked Sir Keldorn.

"I do, if your wizard feels up to the task," he said. "Mistress Edwina?"

"Of course I am 'up to the task'," Edwin grumbled. "(Anything to get us out of this cesspit and back to matters of actual importance!)"

"Then we will do it," Ember said.

"May the gods smile upon you forever," Sassar said, his mouth twisting into a smile. "Let me rest a little... and I will tell you where to go."

-.-.-

As the group walked way from where Sassar lay, that they might discuss the task at hand without disturbing him, Minsc tugged Ember's sleeve. There was a worried look on the giant ranger's face, far from the exuberance he usually showed before a big evil-stomping fight.

"Boo was wondering," he said, "can you help little Sassar?"

She knew what he meant, and she had considered it. But the wounds where Sassar's eyes had been were too old, too scarred, and the man had barely enough strength to keep himself alive as it was. There was nothing there for her to draw upon, to work with.

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Boo," she said. "But I can't give him his eyes back."


	48. Chapter 119: The Unseeing Eye

**Chapter 119: The Unseeing Eye**

The beholder cult compound covered a large area within the catacombs; walls had been knocked down and remnants of ancient graves cleared away to make room for an ever-growing number of blind cultists. At the very center of the compound lay a large pit where the Unseeing Eye dwelled. To approach directly would mean fighting their way through a crowd of cultists, all gifted with unnatural senses and driven by the religious fervour the beholder instilled in them; a suicidal task. However, there was an alternate route, through the Pit of the Faithless. Those who rebelled or tried to fight the beholder's will were thrown into the Pit, which was part of a natural chasm that bordered the compound. In addition to being a spot the cultists tended to avoid, the chasm was connected to the central pit through an underground tunnel. Sassar could not tell Ember and her companions what opposition they might meet on the way, but it was clear that the Pit was far more likely to offer a viable path to the beholder.

Following Sassar's instructions, the group arrived at the far side of the Pit without encountering any of the cultists. The stench made it abundantly clear that they had found the right place; for the most part, the catacombs smelled dry and cold, like ancient bone dust, but the Pit of the Faithless reeked of decay, a sickly sweet smell that grew stronger as the group climbed down into the pit. The sight that greeted them at the bottom came as no surprise; the remains of at least twenty bodies lay scattered across the floor.

"Something has been feeding upon these bodies," Sir Keldorn muttered. "Stand ready, all."

A deep, guttural groan came from the far end of the pit, and something shifted in the shadows. Ember's skin crawled.

"They come," Mazzy calmly announced. Four ghouls shambled towards the group, and behind them, the shadows seemed to detach from the rocky walls, growing larger and more ominous as they did so.

"Wraiths!" Sir Keldorn cried, moving to confront one of the ghouls. "Do not let them touch you! Anomen, repel them if you can!"

A troubled expression crossed Anomen's face. He closed his eyes, opened them again, and looked straight at the rapidly approaching wraiths. He raised his hand in a warding gesture. His lips moved -

A wave of white light burst forth from his hand and washed across the pit. The groans and hisses of the undead creatures were abruptly cut off, almost as if a spell of silence had been cast upon them. When the light faded away, the ghouls lay in shattered piles on the ground. The wraiths were gone; utterly destroyed.

"Well done, lad!" Sir Keldorn exclaimed.

"(As long as nobody noticed that display,)" Edwin mumbled.

"Let them notice!" Minsc cried. "Minsc and Boo stand ready to greet them!"

Ember went to Anomen's side. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I am, my lady," he said. His breathing was a bit rushed and he trembled slightly, but he didn't appear to have overexerted himself. "The wizard's fears may be justified. We should move onwards."

She smiled at him. "I knew you could do it."

He glanced at her, and the weary look on his face gave way to a small smile. "Thank you, my lady."

-.-.-

The rocky crevice narrowed and became a tunnel, which branched into multiple arms a short distance away from the Pit. At that point, the tunnel walls became unnaturally smooth, and were coated by a layer of ropy, pink slime. Small, glowing globules embedded in the slime gave off enough light that Edwin's magelights became unnecessary; he extinguished them. The air felt thick and vaguely unpleasant. "A beholder tunnel," Sir Keldorn murmured. "Move with caution."

Yoshimo and Minsc took turns scouting ahead, never leading the group onwards unless they were certain they would not be seen. Their caution paid off, for the tunnels were not empty; gauths, smaller beholders that were minions of the larger one, moved through the tunnels, tending the slime coat or digging new tunnel branches, blasting through rock with pulses of magical energy. Encountering even one of them would have led to a tough fight, and it would have let their master know there were intruders.

The sound of chanting voices drifted through the tunnels, growing louder and louder as the group progressed. _So many have been bent to the beholder's will,_ Ember thought, _and now we're walking straight into its grasp. We must be insane._ She'd never seen a beholder, but she had heard of them, and knew what they were capable of. One that could do what this beholder had done would have to be powerful, even by their standards... Shaking her head, Ember reminded herself that their group had faced a dragon and won, but the memory could not dispel the dread she was feeling.

Grim-faced, Yoshimo returned from one of his short scouting forays, and nodded meaningfully; he'd located the Unseeing Eye. Sir Keldorn nodded in acknowledgement, and led the group to a small niche a short distance behind them, where they prepared for the fight with every imaginable protective spell; spells of haste and strength, of mental and physical protection, wards against petrifaction and electric attacks. Once ready, they silently followed Yoshimo to the central pit.

The Unseeing Eye was the strangest creature Ember had ever seen: a giant, hovering sack of flesh, wrapped in magical protections. The shape of its hide outlined the folds of its massive brain, which appeared to occupy most of its body cavity. A fang-filled maw and an immense, milky white eye with a deep scar slashed across its surface made up the beholder's face. Several smaller eyes were attached by stalks to the bulk of the body; some were wilted and shrivelled, like neglected flowers, but several were still functional, and swivelled to look straight at the group as they approached. The chanting from above stopped, then immediately resumed, stronger and louder than before.

 _"Despair, sighted, for death is thy familiar,"_ a low voice growled in Ember's mind.

"Torm take you!" Sir Keldorn roared, and rushed forth to attack the beholder. Minsc followed the paladin's lead, roaring gleefully as he charged. The battle plan was fairly simple: the two swordfighters were to try to hold the Unseeing Eye's attention while Mazzy and Yoshimo, their archers, supplied covering fire and watched for reinforcements. The spellcasters would maintain the group's defenses and work to dispel the beholder's protection; once it only had its own hide to rely upon, it should fall quickly.

The beholder had its own ideas. Almost casually, it knocked Minsc and Sir Keldorn aside, and turned towards Ember. One of its bobbing stalk-eyes snapped open and fixated on her, and a burst of magic ripped away her painstakingly applied spell defenses, leaving her with only the mental protections granted by her shield. _"You have power, Godchild,"_ the voice whispered, pushing on Ember's mind with a heavy, smothering presence. _"Yield it to me."_ A second burst of magic stunned her, and she stood unable to move while the voice in her mind demanded that she succumb to it. Fear flashed through her, then turned to rage. Who did that monster think it was, trying to ensnare her in the middle of a fight? She, who dealt with far worse in her sleep?!

Minsc moved to put himself between Ember and the beholder just as she regained control of her limbs. She wanted nothing more than to charge at her assaulter, but she forced herself not to; instead, she looked towards the top of the pit, where the cultists were chanting a steady rhythm. She gestured towards the chanters and shouted an incantation that brought a swarm of angry insects down upon them. In a matter of moments, their chants were replaced by panicked shrieks, and just as she had hoped, the force of the beholder's mind weakened as it lost control of its followers. Verbally roaring with anger, the beholder aimed a spell at her that was harmlessly absorbed by her shield.

"Gauths!" Mazzy cried out. Edwin and Anomen immediately turned their attention to the entrance to the pit, where at least three of the beholder minions were approaching. Anomen put a weakening curse upon the creatures, then smote them with a blinding rain of holy energy, and Edwin conjured a cloud of noxious fumes around them. The combined effect was devastating; the gauths, blinded and disoriented, milled around in the poisonous cloud, randomly attacking whatever they bumped into, be it the walls or each other. They could not have offered better targets for Mazzy and Yoshimo's arrows.

In retaliation, the Unseeing Eye targeted Edwin. One of its eyes removed most of his protective spells, then it spoke an incantation, much as any other wizard would. Edwin blanched and hastily restored some of his magical defenses, but he could not block the full force of the wilting spell the beholder cast upon him. He collapsed as the spell drained moisture from his body; Ember rushed to his side to halt and reverse the damage before it was too late. The beholder's attention moved on to Mazzy, who was targeting the gauths with deadly precision. It stripped away Mazzy's defenses; Mazzy spun around and fired an arrow at the stalk-eye that stared at her.

Another stalk-eye opened and looked at Mazzy.

She turned into stone.

"NO!" With a roar of fury, Minsc charged at the Unseeing Eye, hacking and slashing as if he could break through its defenses by sheer will alone. The beholder pummeled him with spells, but he shrugged off or ignored everything, even a bolt of lightning. Slowly, the beholder drifted backwards, propelled by the force of Minsc's berserker onslaught; above them, several of the cultists shouted that they had gone blind, and pleaded that their lord restore their senses.

"Get me up," Edwin commanded Ember. He sounded like he'd swallowed a desert, but there was a cold fury in his words and eyes. Ember hoisted him to his feet and supported him as he resumed trying to breach the Unseeing Eye's defenses, casting spell after powerful spell, as fast as he could and faster than he should. Worried that he'd burn out, she chanted spells of her own to sustain him. A curse from Anomen turned the beholder a sickly green hue, and the next spell from Edwin shattered the beholder's defenses. Moments later, Minsc's sword cleaved its brain.

"(Hah!)" Edwin cried triumphantly, and slumped over with exhaustion.

"Not yet," Ember said, and dragged Edwin back up on his feet. "Mazzy needs you!" She pulled him towards where Mazzy had been petrified, and cast a worried glance in Minsc's direction; to her astonishment, she saw Sir Keldorn approach the giant ranger, who was still lost in fury and hacking away at the remains of the beholder. She did not know what the paladin said to her friend, but Minsc calmed down, snapped out of his berserker rage, and let Anomen tend to him.

"She is alive, I think," Yoshimo said anxiously when they approached Mazzy. He and Sir Keldorn had finished off the gauths, and none of the creatures had been able to do harm to her petrified form. Ember placed a hand on Mazzy's stone cheek; there was a faint warmth to it.

"Yes, she's still warm," she said. There was hope. "Edwin?"

Edwin's spell seemed to take forever to cast, but then, in a glimmer of magic, Mazzy's stone features reverted to flesh. She gasped and stumbled forwards, and fell to her knees. She was injured, but she was alive.

"No more," Edwin grumbled wearily. "No more imbecilic, unnecessary risks. If it does not pertain to reclaiming Imoen, I will not do it. (And if we had been killed today, I would never have forgiven you.)"

 _As if I would have forgiven myself,_ Ember thought. She said nothing, and concentrated on healing Mazzy.

Above them, the bereaved cultists screamed and wailed in despair.

-.-.-

City air had never smelled so sweet.

The group exited the sewers, Sassar in tow, in the late afternoon. The former cultist and Lathanderite turned to face the sun and stood in silent contemplation as it warmed his upturned face, then quietly requested that the group take him to a church of Ilmater.

Having granted Sassar's request, the group went to the Temple of Helm, where they aided Sir Keldorn in reporting on the situation. Messengers were sent to the other Churches, and a squad that would aid and retrieve the remaining cultists was formed. It was not likely that any of the cultists would be able to have their eyes restored, but with luck, many of them might well manage to reclaim their lives.

It was heading towards evening, and Ember sat on a bench outside the temple gates. Most of their group had returned to the Copper Coronet to rest; she was only waiting for Anomen to finish speaking with his superiors. It would not take too long, he'd said, and even though it had already taken longer than she'd expected, she didn't mind the wait. The heat of the day was giving way to the relative cool of the night, and the scattered clouds overhead picked up the rays of the setting sun, creating an ever-shifting panorama of crimson, pink, and gold. She let her mind go where it willed, and was halfway into a meditative trance when Anomen finally emerged from the temple, pale-faced and agitated.

She pulled back from the trance and stood up to greet him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"My lady," he stammered, "have I your leave to spend this night here, in the temple?"

"Of course! But what has happened?"

He swallowed nervously. "Sir Keldorn has just informed me that I am to be Tested on the morrow."

"Oh." The day had finally come; tomorrow, he'd belong only to the Order.

"I... I find that I cannot face my Test without knowing if my faith passes muster in the eyes of Lord Helm," Anomen continued. "I wish to undergo the Holy Vigil."

The Vigil ritual would require a waking night, and she knew he was already exhausted. But she knew better than to tell him to reconsider. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

He nodded slightly. "If you would meet me here by the gates in the morning, just after sunrise, I would be most grateful."

"Do you want the others -"

"Nay, my lady. Your company will more than suffice. "

She took his hand. "I'll be there. I promise."

"Thank you. I... I must speak with the High Watcher." He squeezed her hand briefly, then let go of her and headed back inside the temple.

"May the gods be with you, Anomen," she said quietly as the gates closed behind him.


	49. Chapter 120: A Knight's Worth

**Chapter 120: A Knight's Worth**

High Watcher Oisig led Anomen into one of the smaller chambers of the temple. "Well, young Anomen, here we are," Oisig said, and removed a white cloth from the small stone altar at the far end of the chamber.

"Here?" Anomen asked. "I... Pardon my ignorance, High Watcher, but I expected this would take place in the main chamber."

Oisig shook his head. "Many do believe that. But a Holy Vigil is a most private moment between supplicant and deity. What better place to perform it than in one of the smaller prayer rooms? Besides," he chuckled, "this measure prevents some of the more zealous supplicants from trying to outshine each other."

"I see," Anomen stammered.

"Do not be nervous, Anomen. Rest your faith in Helm's hands, and turn your mind to the task before you. Your weapon, if you would."

Anomen handed the High Watcher his war hammer.

"Thank you. Now, this enchantment is not done rapidly. You might want to settle your thoughts while you wait. Take a seat there, if you wish." Oisig gestured towards a low bench, padded with brown leather.

It seemed to Anomen that he had done little else but attempt to settle his thoughts lately; by now, he knew it to be an exersise in futility. Keenly aware of the way his heart thudded beneath his chestplate, he sat down on the proffered seat and watched as Oisig cast the necessary enchantment upon his weapon. The enchantment would cause the weapon to levitate, and through vigilant prayer, Anomen was to keep it aloft through the night. If his faith and will were strong enough, the weapon would remain suspended until dawn; if he were to fail - if his faith was too weak - the enchantment would break, and the weapon would fall. A fairly simple ritual, at a glance, but Anomen had heard others describe their Holy Vigil as a most profound experience, and the closest they had ever felt to the Great Guardian.

It was said that a man would see his own true self during the Vigil.

Anomen was loath to do so.

Oisig held up Anomen's weapon with one hand; with the enchantment completed, the war hammer glowed with an unearthly light. "Step forward, and let the Holy Vigil commence," the High Watcher intoned. Anomen forced his legs to stand and move him forward. He halted before the small stone altar, and kneeled.

"What are the tenets?" the High Watcher asked, holding the war hammer aloft in front of Anomen

"Be always vigilant," Anomen said, his eyes fixed on the war hammer. "Never betray your trust. Be fair and diligent in your conduct. Protect the weak, the unpopular, the injured, and the young." He continued to speak, slowly reciting the tenets he had memorized as a child, and the High Watcher released the weapon. To Anomen's immense relief, it did not immediately crash down upon the altar; trembling slightly, it remained hovering just above the level of his eyes.

Silently, Oisig withdrew from the room, leaving Anomen to his Vigil.

-.-.-

For the first few hours, Anomen prayed steadily, alternating between chanting prayers of worship and reciting the tenets. He never took his eyes off the hammer, and even though it still trembled, it showed no signs of dropping. But as the night wore on, a heavy weariness came over him, and he cursed his folly in going to the Vigil on that very night. He had known he needed to perform the Vigil after witnessing what a lack of true faith had done to Sassar, but Test or no, he should have allowed himself time to recuperate after the fight against the beholder. How foolish of him! How could he knowingly have gone to this so unprepared?

"Be always vigilant," he murmured. "Never betray your trust."

Moira had trusted him, and now she lay dead. He had failed her.

"Be fair and diligent in your conduct."

Even though he had not sought out Saerk, his heart had burned to do so. And, to an extent, it still did.

His mouth grew dry, and his words steadily more belaboured; with each tenet that passed over his lips, he recalled another infraction. He could not control his temper. He had treated Mazzy abominably when they were first acquainted. He had failed his father's every expectation - except in that he was a coward, just as Cor had always told him: why else would he be so afraid to trust himself? He did not trust his own powers of judgement. He acted rashly when he should not. He had been tricked into killing some of the Order's most promising members. How could the Great Guardian possibly have a use for someone like him?

The war hammer was wobbling unsteadily; soon, it must fall. Was he to fail in this, too?

"Lord Helm, forgive my weakness," he said quietly. "If I truly possess the strength needed to serve You as I should, I cannot see it. I... I allow my fears and doubts to cripple me, as I should not."

 _What do you fear?_

The question that formed in his mind spurred a torrent of jumbled thoughts: he feared that his father was right about him, or worse yet, that he might become like his father; he feared the scorn and derision of his peers; he feared his temper might lead him astray, or that it already had; he feared trusting himself, lest his motivations - his feelings - were not what they ought to be, and he feared that in doing so, he was failing Helm. Rather than attempt to repress those dreadful thoughts, as he usually did, he let them flow forth into his consciousness; slowly, they coalesced around a single point.

"I fear being unworthy," he said.

 _Are you?_

Before him, the war hammer ceased its unsteady wobbling, and bobbed slowly up and down at the level of his eyes. Somehow, it almost seemed to be watching him.

A fresh memory came to him; he recalled the wraiths in the Pit of the Faithless, and how he had drawn upon the power of Helm to end their blighted existence. Helm had graced him in other matters as well, such as when he restored the skin dancer's final victim, Raissa, in Trademeet, or when he helped destroy the Shade Lord.

He was not bound to follow in his father's footsteps; he could choose to be otherwise. He had already done so.

As much as it stung his pride, not receiving the calling of a paladin did not make him worthless. It was as Ember had once suggested; he was merely not intended for that station.

Too long had he regarded himself through his father's eyes, rather than his own.

"I am not," he said.

 _Who are you?_

In his mind, he seemed to see himself from without; a lone man in a small stone chamber, kneeling in prayer before an enchanted weapon. Nay, not alone; faint, but unmistakable, was the sensation of Helm's presence. His heart swelled.

He knew who he was.

"Oh Great Watcher! As I am, I am Your humble servant," he cried, eyes fixed on the war hammer. It hung before him, perfectly still; as he watched, the glow that emanated from it brightened.

"I shall always be vigilant." The words flowed easily from his lips, from his heart. "I shall never betray my trust."

For the first time since he could remember, Anomen felt whole.

-.-.-

When Anomen emerged from the temple, he found Ember waiting for him, just as she had promised. She was seated on the very bench where he had last seen her; her eyes were closed, and her posture indicated that she was in a light state of meditation. The first rays of sunlight played across her deep brown hair, which she had pulled back from her face; a few loose strands fell about her temples and forehead, framing her serene countenance. It seemed to him that she had never looked more beautiful.

He approached her; she opened her eyes. Their expression was slightly downcast, but nevertheless, a smile blossomed on her face. "How did it go?" she asked.

"My lady, it... it went far beyond any expectation of mine," he said, and smiled at her. "I completed the Vigil; my faith passed muster in the eyes of Helm. Whatever the Order might make of me, I know I shall remain counted amongst His servants."

Her eyes brightened a little. "I'm glad to hear that," she said. "You look terrible, though."

"Alas, that cannot be remedied as of yet," he said with a grin; he'd readied himself as best he could ere he left the temple, and his armour was polished to a perfect sheen, but naught but a full night's rest would eradicate the pallor of his face and the dark circles under his eyes. "My lady, would you do me the honour of walking with me to the Order's headquarters?"

"Of course," she said, and took his proffered arm.

The walk to the headquarters took only a few scant minutes. There, they were parted once more; she was shown into one of the antechambers that were used for visitors, while he was ushered into the main ceremonial chamber. Several squires and acolytes hurried in and out, making preparations. Inexorably, the time drew near.

A half hour later, Anomen stood at attention at the very center of the chamber. Prelate Wessalen stood before him, and several other senior members of the Order encircled them; the weight of their eyes upon him was all but palpable. His nervousness had returned in full force; he did his best to calm himself by reciting the tenets under his breath. Helm was with him, he reminded himself. Helm would be with him, even should he not gain the Order's approval. He must remain true to himself, no matter the outcome, and stand vigilant against the weaknesses in himself as well as in the world at large -

"Anomen Delryn, son of Cor and Moirala," Prelate Wessalen intoned, "do you stand before me pledged to the service of justice? Do you stand before me pledged to the service of righteousness?"

Anomen steeled himself. "Prelate of the Order, I so stand," he replied. "I pledge my life to the service of justice and righteousness."

"Anomen Delryn, do you stand before me seeking a knighthood of the Order?"

"I do so stand."

"Do you stand before me prepared to accept the Judgement of Torm? Are your actions laid bare? Shall I judge you, as I have been judged?"

"My past and my actions I lay bare before you. I ask... that you judge me, as you have been judged."

"May the spirit of Torm enter this chamber!" the Prelate cried. "May the Judgement be unclouded."

Anomen was sheathed in radiant light, and at the same time, a heavy pressure bore down upon him. The light removed all shadows, all defenses; every fault, every virtue, was brought forth. His pride, his anger, his thoughts of vengeance were mingled with every good deed he had committed, every moment in which justice had dictated his actions. The pressure grew ever harder to bear; he would not buckle under it, not now...

The weight was lifted from him. The brilliant light lingered for a few moments, then it, too, faded away.

Prelate Wessalen was regarding him intently, seeming almost to be listening to something instead of looking at him. As the light faded away from Anomen, the prelate took a step back. His posture relaxed, and he nodded, his expression changing into one of satisfaction. "So shall it be," the prelate said. "The Judgement is clear."

Anomen closed his eyes.

"Anomen Delryn, you have proven yourself worthy."


	50. Chapter 121: The Order

**Chapter 121: The Order**

The antechamber Ember was waiting in overlooked a small, carefully maintained garden. She sat on the bench that offered the best view of it, and rested her eyes upon the elegant flower beds and the ornately trimmed hedges.

Anomen was a knight now. He'd come by to tell her he'd passed his Test, had received her congratulations, and had left her again to confer with one Sir Ryan Trawl about his new duties. He'd said he was going to request leave to see Imoen's rescue through to its fulfillment, and had assured her that he would be allowed to do so - the Order of the Radiant Heart frowned heavily upon abandoning one's obligations ere their conclusion, he'd said.

He had also assured her that it wouldn't take long, but quite a while had passed since he left. She was starting to get worried; she could think of a number of reasons why a holy Order would not want one of their knights to assist her any further...

"Ember of Candlekeep?" A young girl, dressed in the colours of Torm, stood in the doorway and looked inquiringly at her. "Your presence has been requested."

"Why? What is the matter?" Ember asked.

"I do not know," the girl said apologetically. "Would you come with me, please?"

Anxiety rising within her, Ember followed the girl further inside the building. They stopped in front of a set of double doors, made from polished oak embossed with gold. "They are expecting you," the girl said, and opened one of the doors.

The chamber was far larger than the one Ember had been waiting in. It had no windows, but three smaller doors lined the walls to either side, and every surface was covered with gleaming marble. A large table stood in the center of the room. Sir Keldorn and two other men in armour sat at the table, their eyes fixed on her as she entered the room. Anomen stood to the side of the table with an odd, inscrutable look on his face.

What was going on?

"Welcome, Ember of Candlekeep," Sir Keldorn said; his formal tone gave away nothing of their intent towards her. "Allow me to introduce my associates: to my right is Sir William Reirrac, paladin of Tyr, and to his right, Sir Ryan Trawl, paladin of Helm." He gestured at a lone chair in front of the table. "Please, be seated."

Ember sat down.

"You intend to locate and retrieve your friend, Imoen of Candlekeep," Sir Ryan said.

"Yes."

"In doing so, you seek to go against the Cowled Wizards. How do you intend to do this?"

"I-I am not sure, but I do know that there is nothing to be done here in the city," Ember said. "Maybe, if I can get to Spellhold, the people there might be more forthcoming."

"And if they are not?" Sir William asked. "One infraction against the law does not justify another."

"I will rescue Imoen without breaking any laws, if I can," Ember said, "but... I cannot abandon her there. Irenicus is in Spellhold, too, and I can't trust the Cowled Wizards to be able to contain him. You saw what he did to Waukeen's Promenade; I saw what he did to Imoen." Her throat tightened. "She... she is all the family I have. I cannot rest until she is safely away from both him and those who called her a deviant."

"You have made your position clear," Sir Ryan said. "Sir Anomen has informed us that he is pledged to Imoen's cause. We have granted him permission to fulfill that pledge - provided he can do so without breaking his oaths."

A heavy weight seemed to lift from Ember's shoulders. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"There is, however, something else we would discuss with you," Sir William said.

She stiffened. "What is that?"

"It has come to our attention that you are one of the Bhaalspawn."

Cold panic rushed through her. Wide-eyed, she looked at Anomen. Had he told?!

"Sir Anomen did not inform us of this matter," Sir William continued. "He has merely confirmed that your identity was known to him. No, our information stems rather from inquiries made after your involvement with the dragon Firkraag. Apparently, it is well known in certain circles in Baldur's Gate that Sarevok Anchev was vanquished by one of his siblings."

Her eyes sought Sir Keldorn's. "You... you knew, didn't you?"

"I must confess that I did," he replied. "Have no fear; we mean you no harm."

"What do you want from me?" she blurted out.

"You are not the only Bhaalspawn known to the Order," Sir Ryan said. "We have received a number of reports as of late; a serial killer in Waterdeep, a warlord in Calimshan, an assassin in Neverwinter..."

"And, of all things," Sir William added, "a gnomish priest of Cyric who was killed in Tethyr recently."

"Some are little more than common scum, others seem to have ambitions that rival those of Sarevok Anchev," Sir Ryan continued. "You, however, seem to be different. The path you appear to have chosen is a far more benign one."

"And yet, would I be right in suggesting that you were not always as you are now?" Sir Keldorn asked. "I spoke with Sir Ajantis after he gained his knighthood, and he told me of his companions on the Sword Coast. He spoke of you as a promising swordswoman and a goodhearted girl, but in danger of losing yourself to anger and bloodlust." He looked at her.

What did he expect her to say?!

"Yes," she said, her heart racing, "I was different then. Ajantis didn't know what I was - neither did I, for that matter - but he... he saw I was changing, and warned me against it." A lump formed in her throat. "In the end, I understood what he meant. I was turning into someone I did not wish to be. I pledged myself to Mielikki not long after he left us... I've done my best to serve Life ever since."

Sir Keldorn's expression softened. "He told me he hoped you would be able to amend your ways. I am glad you proved him right."

"As am I," she said quietly.

"The prophecies about the Bhaalspawn speak of blood and chaos," Sir William said, "and as one of them, you are bound to be caught up in the events that are to come. Thus far, you seem to have acted as a stabilizing force, and your influence has, all in all, been positive. Is it your intent to continue to do so?"

Her intent? All she wanted was to get Imoen back; what point was there in thinking beyond that? But the paladin was right; one way or another, whether she liked it or not, Alaundo's prophecies would have to affect her. "I do not wish to see another Sarevok. I do not want the world of my nightmares. I'd be rid of the whole thing if I could," she said bitterly, "but I since I cannot, I'll have to settle for fighting it as long as I can."

Sir Ryan nodded; he looked pleased with her response. "I sense truth in your words," he said. "Ember of Candlekeep, you are involved in a matter larger than any of us. As such, we believe the presence of the Order in your company would be nothing but beneficial."

There was something about the paladin's tone... "What do you mean?" she stammered.

"It is the wish of the Order that Sir Anomen should continue to aid you in your travels, beyond the rescue of your friend. Do you agree to this?"

She couldn't believe it. "Aid? In what manner?" she asked incredulously. "Is he to give you further reports on me? Or is he just to make sure I don't step out of line?!"

"You misunderstand," Sir Keldorn said. "We -"

Anomen stepped forward. "My lords, may I be allowed to speak with her, and explain the matter at hand?"

The three paladins exchanged looks. Sir Ryan nodded. "Very well, Sir Anomen. You may use the West room."

"Thank you, my lords," Anomen said, bowing before the paladins before turning to Ember. "My lady, if you would come with me?"

He escorted her into one of the adjoining rooms, and carefully closed the door behind them. "Rest easy, my lady," he said. "'Tis as Sir Keldorn said; they mean you no ill. But I feel I must apologize on his behalf; it appears he made a point of observing your conduct as well as mine during our shared mission."

"And now they want to keep observing me?" she snapped. "Hells, why did they even tell me about this at all?!"

"They do not wish me to spy upon you. And I insisted that you be asked ere I would consent to the assignment. I am sorry if their questions caused you distress; I did not know they would make further inquiries after the matter had been decided upon."

His words and the tone of his voice calmed her down a little. "What is it they want, exactly?"

"They have been led to believe there is good in you," he said. "In you, they see the chance to stem a little of the chaos that lays ahead, and even though the Order cannot and should not rally behind anyone in this matter, they still wish to support you in some small way. As such, they have asked me to remain in your company, that I may assist you and guard you in the time to come, for as long as I deem appropriate."

"Appropriate?"

"Should your actions and intents come to run counter to my oaths, I am to cease our association, and leave your side."

"Just like that."

"Indeed, just like that. You need not look at me so, my lady; they would not have me act against you in a treacherous or deceitful manner, no matter the circumstances."

"This is really all they intend?" she asked uncertainly.

"I was informed that my present company seems to have been a good influence upon me," he said dryly. "They may, perchance, have taken that into consideration as well."

She chuckled a little at that, then gave him a serious look. "Anomen, is this really something you want to do?"

"It is indeed."

''But I know how much you've yearned to do the Order's work. Following a Bhaalspawn around instead..."

"You are far more than that!" he cried. "I... I would..." He paused, and seemed to collect himself. "My lady, when I first learned the truth about you, I spent many long hours in prayer, seeking Helm's guidance on the matter. I never received any."

"The gods aren't allowed to interfere," she said, recalling how her own goddess had refused to let her know what she was, even as she accepted her service.

"A fact I am now well aware of," he said. "Eventually, I was instructed to trust myself... it has taken me a long time to dare to do so." He took her hands in his. "I was not asked to follow a Bhaalspawn; I was asked to follow you. **You.** I believe that if there is a way to subvert the prophecy regarding your kind, you will find it, and I can imagine no grander cause than assisting you in that task. That the Order should ask this of me... 'tis an honour I never dared dream of!" He looked at her. "Truly, my lady, there is naught in this world that I would rather do than continue to fight by your side."

It was real.

He was going to stay with her.

He wanted to stay with her.

"I do... I do want you with me," she said, her voice trembling. "But, if you are to do this, there is one thing I must ask of you. If... if I should change... I want you to stop me."

He responded by kneeling before her, still holding her hands in his own. "My lady, this I swear," he said, more solemn than she had ever heard him before, "I shall do my utmost to defend you from any that mean you harm. Even your own self."

"Thank you," she whispered. Tears were trickling down her cheeks; she couldn't say why. Laughing, she wiped them away. "Come, let's go tell your superiors I accept."

-.-.-

"Would that we could have sent someone older and more experienced in his stead," Sir William muttered. Sir Anomen had departed with the godchild, leaving the three paladins alone in the chamber.

"And yet, Sir Anomen has more experience in this particular matter than anyone else in the Order," Sir Ryan said.

"Rest assured, she would not have accepted a substitute," Sir Keldorn said. "The measure of mistrust she has shown towards both myself and Sir Cadril, and, indeed, this very council, testifies to that. No, she would never have allowed someone she perceived as a judgmental presence to join her ranks, especially not at the cost of losing a friend."

"A friend? He clearly regards her as something far more than that!" Sir William shook his head. "I have never known the lad to be skilled at keeping his emotions in check; his infatuation with her may well lead him astray. We should have reconsidered giving him this assignment."

"That was indeed an unforeseen complication," Sir Ryan conceded. "But remember that although many expected otherwise, Sir Anomen did pass his Test. He has also undergone and completed his Holy Vigil at the Temple of Helm. His heart is true, as is his sense of duty. As I see it, there is no reason to believe he will act inappropriately."

"I was pleased to learn that Ember did benefit from Sir Ajantis's counsel in the past, just as I had suspected," Sir Keldorn remarked.

"We are taking a risk, and I do not enjoy assigning a newly fledged knight to such an unusual task," Sir Ryan said. "But, there can be little doubt that unusual times lay ahead of us. I have faith in Sir Anomen; he will prove himself."

"I hope you are right," Sir William said grimly. "By Tyr, I hope you are right."


	51. Chapter 122: Thayvian Matters

**Chapter 122: Thayvian Matters**

Edwin was severely annoyed.

As if the general ruckus of the Copper Coronet wasn't aggravating enough, most of the rest of the group was flocked around Anomen, chattering away like the simians they were. Only Yoshimo managed to be mostly inoffensive, quietly sitting in a corner seat as he was, but even he was watching the circus with an amused grin. Fools! Who cared that the Helmite had finally realized why he would never have made a good paladin? (Hadn't that been obvious from the start?)

"Had I been granted a paladin's calling, would I truly have served Helm, or would I, in my pride, have come to serve myself rather than He?" the insufferable cleric said. "Nay, 'tis far better that that path was never set before me; that I was given the chance to learn humility, and my true worth, in its stead."

Edwin shook his head. Humility? Bah! (And since when was it wrong to serve one's own interests?)

Worst of all, that blabbering fool was to remain in Ember's company (and thus, by extension, Imoen's, once she was returned to them) while he, Edwin Odesseiron, was allowed to stay solely at Ember's mercy, to be cast aside on her whim! Preposterous! Why should only **he** be damned for acting as an agent, when it was blatantly obvious (to anyone with half a functional brain, at least) that the Helmite would be doing the very same thing for his precious Order? Was Ember really so great a fool that she was blinded by the way the bumbling oaf of a cleric kept looking at her (which resembled a moonstruck calf more than anything else)? Imbeciles, all of them!

Unable to take more of the trite, inane banter, Edwin pointedly excused himself and headed to the bar, where he ordered a draught of the inn's finest wine (not that that meant much) from Bernard, Hendak's pet innkeeper. A robed figure approached the bar, impinging upon Edwin's awareness as a blotch of vibrant -

Red.

Red robes.

Edwin froze.

"Greetings, innkeeper," Degardan said, addressing Bernard. "I've a few queries regarding your clientele."

Bernard raised an eyebrow, but otherwise, there was no reaction; he did not even set aside the tankard he was cleaning.

"I am interested in the whereabouts of Edwin Odesseiron, a long-winded bag of gas. My magics indicate that this is a likely place for the vulture to roost."

"And who might this Edwin be? Why are you looking for him?" Bernard asked. Edwin's blood turned to ice. Did he intend to betray him?!

Degardan laughed coldly. "Edwin is a self-serving, nerveless worm, whose prowess as a spellcaster consists of parlour tricks. He's gone rogue. He has vilified the masters of the Order and sullied their good names. "

Bernard merely looked at Degardan and picked up a cloth, with which he proceeded to wipe the tankard dry.

"There is a king's ransom for anyone who turns the impotent imposter over to the proper judicial authority."

"King's ransom or not," Bernard replied, "there ain't much I can do for you without knowing what this fellow looks like."

With an air of barely restrained impatience, Degardan proceeded to give the innkeeper an almost uncomfortably accurate description of how Edwin had used to look.

"Hrmm," Bernard said thoughtfully, and picked up another soiled tankard. "Don't sound like anyone I know."

"Is that so?"

Bernard shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Can I be getting you a drink?"

Degardan grumbled exasperatedly, and glanced around the room. Edwin's robes caught his attention; an instant later, his eyes were riveted on Edwin's face. "You! Give me your name!" he barked in Thayvian.

"I am Celisa," Edwin blurted out in the same language. Thank the gods he'd had the foresight to think of a name!

"Your family name? Where are you from?"

"Midoren," he said. "I am Celisa Midoren, from Amruthar." He couldn't show fear; it would only raise suspicion.

"Hmpf. You have, no doubt, heard of Edwin Odesseiron and his treachery."

"Yes, I have heard of him." No fear. No embellishments; they were the hallmarks of lies. No muttering. "But I have never met him."

"You are certain?"

(Of course he - No! No muttering!) "I am certain."

Degardan glared at him. Edwin glared back. His heart beat once, twice, thrice...

"I see," Degardan said. "If you should learn of his whereabouts, bring word to Degardan. I stay at the Mithrest Inn." Without any further ado, he turned and walked away from the bar, passed a few tables, spoke briefly to the guard at the door, and left the inn.

Edwin exhaled deeply.

"Aye, you can breathe now, wizard," Bernard chuckled.

Edwin looked at the rotund man behind the bar, who was calmly cleaning yet another tankard. "Why?" he asked.

"Why? For starters, I keep out of politics, I don't get in people's affairs, and I don't cause trouble," Bernard said gruffly. "And a king's ransom may be fine and grand, but it won't give you your dignity, or your freedom. Was your friends over there," he nodded in the direction of their table, "that did that. None of us'll forget that so soon."

Edwin shook his head. It hurt. And he did not like the way Bernard was looking at him, as if he knew something Edwin didn't. "(This is too much,)" he grumbled, and headed upstairs to the relative peace and quiet of his room.

Why had Degardan come here? Did he truly know Edwin would be nearby, or was it merely a line he fed to every innkeeper he saw? Had he seen through the lie that was Celisa Midoren? How long would Edwin still be safe here? (Not long enough!) He needed to pack his belongings, and then convince the others of the need to relocate (which would probably be a task on the scale of drawing water from a stone).

It felt almost sacrilegious just to think it, but maybe (just maybe) he should have tried to find himself some robes that weren't red, after all.

-.-.-

An hour later, Edwin was busily packing his collection of spellscrolls (which was growing rather impressive, if he was to say so himself) as efficiently as possible when there was a knock at the door.

He did not answer it, not even with an annoyed shout. Slowly, quietly, he stood up from his work.

With a click, the door unlocked itself, and slid open. Degardan entered the room. "Greetings again, Edwin," he said.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Edwin demanded, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking.

Degardan laughed. "Ah, Edwin. In your own inimitable fashion, you are prodigious... at lying."

"Do I look like an Edwin?" Edwin asked as coolly as he could manage.

"Perhaps not, but my divinations tell me that Edwin is here, right before me, so Edwin you must be," Degardan smirked. "How did you do it, Edwin? A Girdle of Gender? You certainly didn't accomplish this glamour through your paltry arcane skills alone!"

"There are no glamours, no girdles, and no Edwins here. Only Celisa Midoren," Edwin hissed. His life depended upon what would happen next. "If you are so certain, I challenge you: break the spell you believe me to be under."

"With pleasure, Edwin," Degardan said with a cold, hard smile. "Your true nature will soon be revealed." He spoke a convoluted incantation, and a torrent of magical energy struck Edwin; he did nothing to try to stop it. He closed his eyes, opened them again, and looked down at himself.

He was still a woman.

His last hope had failed.

"Strange," Degardan muttered.

"Leave," Edwin said through gritted teeth.

"I do not know how you thwarted that dweomer," Degardan said, "but nonetheless, you are my prey, Edwin. If nothing else, the fear in your eyes told me the truth."

(Fear?)

(Fear?!)

White-hot rage blossomed in Edwin's chest. "You incompetent fraud!" he bellowed, and flung a volley of magic missiles at Degardan, who responded by raising a series of protective wards around himself; Edwin immediately stripped them away. Why should he, who had fought beholders and dragons, ever have considered Degardan a daunting foe? Was he not more than able to deal with the likes of that insulting, ignorant worm? No longer would he cower in fear of one who was obviously an inept, brutish amateur!

The air around them grew hot as wards were raised and dispelled at a breathtaking pace. Damaging spells were hurled at any crack in the other's defenses. It took all of Edwin's considerable self-control to remind himself that he was within a wooden structure, and that it thus would be unwise to immolate the undeserving wretch before him; instead, he settled for missiles and single projectile spells. Blood trickled from his nose, and the joints in his fingers ached; he cared not. Degardan would not gain the upper hand!

A cone of cold hit Edwin with the force of a hundred winters. The onslaught forced him to his knees, gasping for air; his numb and frostbitten fingers were barely able to work a globe of invulnerability around him before Degardan struck again. In mere moments, the globe was stripped away from him. Sluggishly, he summoned a set of magic missiles, hoping desperately to strike Degardan in time, before -

Degardan had ceased his spellcasting. Instead, he was leaping about as if the floorboards beneath his feet were on fire.

Or rather, as the case were, as if the floorboards were covered by a myriad of ants, which were swarming aggressively around his feet.

Ember stood in the doorway, looking annoyed. (Was she behind this sudden infestation, then? Yes, she must be!) Without a word, she entered the room, followed by the cleric, the giant imbecile, and the halfling. By now, Degardan had fallen to the floor, and was desperately trying to writhe away from the ants.

"Evil wizard, Boo has a have a question for you," Minsc said, looming over Degardan. "Do we have to show you the swift blade of Judgement?"

Degardan's expression was a mixture of agonizing pain and utter incomprehension.

"Red Wizard, do you yield?" Mazzy translated as Minsc drew his sword.

"I yield!" Degardan screamed. Ember gestured with her hand, and the ants slowly dispersed.

"Tell me," Ember said, crouching beside Degardan, "why is Edwin wanted?"

"He has... failed his sworn duty," Degardan panted, glowering at Edwin.

"Which was?"

"To locate... and produce before us... a certain person. His lack of compliance... with the latter... is high treachery."

Ember laughed. "And what kind of Bhaalspawn would just walk into Thay with him, do you think? They are not pet sheep, you know."

"How dare you... Who are you, to -"

"I am from the Sword Coast," Ember said, her voice harsh. "You've heard of Sarevok Anchev, perhaps? It seems to me that Edwin did you a favour by not trying to bring you someone like him; someone who would happily burn down your nation and then revel in the ashes." She stood up. "We'll leave you with your life for now, Red Wizard. But approach anyone of my group again, and you will die. Do we understand each other?"

(What?!) She would allow him to leave? Was she out of her mind?!

"We do," Degardan said sullenly. Minsc and Mazzy stepped away from him, giving him room to stand. He straightened his robes and glared haughtily at those around him before walking out of the room, stepping gingerly on ant-bitten feet. Once he had passed through the doorway, he turned and began the incantation that would summon a fireball; the spell died on his lips as Yoshimo, hidden in the shadows beyond the door, stepped forward and cut the wizard down.

"What else was to be expected?" Mazzy said, shaking her head. "Well done, Yoshimo."

The Kara-Turan bowed.

It was over. Degardan was dead (regrettably, not by Edwin's own hand, but dead nonetheless). He was safe. Safe!

But how had the others known?

"How did you know?" he muttered as the cleric tended to his injuries.

"Bernard saw this colleague of yours return to the inn, and informed us of both that, and of his questions earlier," Yoshimo said.

Edwin glanced around the room. His spellscrolls were a tangled mess, and some (it broke his heart to see) were clearly damaged by acid. The floorboards were warped where the cone of cold had struck. His robes were full of holes and rents, as were Degardan's.

He had stood against Degardan, had even managed to hold his own for quite a while, but... he had been far closer to death than he appreciated. The innkeeper, and his companions, had (more likely than not) saved his life.

As wretched as his existence was, at least it was still his.

"Thank you," he said to his companions. An awkward silence followed his words; then, the halfling stepped forward and patted his arm.

"Think nothing of it," she said with a smile.


	52. Chapter 123: Assignment

**Chapter 123: Assignment**

Once again, Ember was in the Candlekeep library.

Once again, Irenicus was standing by a pulpit, mocking her for wishing to be normal, scolding her for not embracing her powers.

"Walk among them, these beasts that are less than you are," he said, and pointed at the stretch of floor that separated them. Her companions lay there, asleep... no, not asleep. They were dead.

It was she who had killed them.

"You care yet," he said, his voice dripping with disgust. "Why? Why do you stand for this? Why do you submit to the flesh when death is bred in your bones?"

Imoen was standing beside Irenicus now, with a hole cut in her chest where her heart should have been. He laughed coldly, seized Imoen by the wrist, and dragged her away.

"Follow, and receive the gift you are owed by the blood in your veins," he challenged Ember. "Follow, if only to protect the weak that fell because of you."

Ember started to give chase, but within a few steps, she stumbled; her feet had tangled in the limbs of her dead companions. Desperately, she tried to work herself free, but their arms wound around her legs like vines, ensnaring her further. She lost her balance, and fell forward into a sea of darkness.

-.-.-

Ember prodded her breakfast in silence, and did her best to ignore the concerned looks Anomen and Minsc were sending her way. Her dream had drained away both her cheer and her appetite, but she was not going to ruin the meal for everyone else by discussing such a nightmare at the table. No, she'd told them earlier that she'd had a bad dream, and it was best to just leave it at that.

Her spirits were lifted a little, but only briefly, when Yoshimo arrived at the table with a message from Gaelan Bayle, asking them to meet at his home at noon. No explanation or reason was given, and Ember didn't dare hope that it meant they were finally ready to take her to Imoen. After all, wouldn't Bayle have given them a hint that the meeting meant good news, if that were the case? But yet, she could argue with just as much right that there was no hint at a further delay, either!

After a maddening wait, the group approached Bayle's doorstep just as the noon bells tolled. His nephew was nowhere in sight; this time, it was Bayle himself who welcomed them. "Greetings to ye, me lady!" he said, and bowed theatrically.

Ember was in no mood to exchange pleasantries. "Is our ship ready?" she asked.

"Not quite yet," Bayle said, confirming her fears, "but ye may not wait much longer. There's someone here that wants to speak with ye."

"And who might this someone be?" Mazzy asked.

"The one that's arranging yer trip to Spellhold, that's who," Bayle grinned. "Come with me."

Bayle led the group into his parlour. The blinds were shut, and the room was lit by the weak flame of a single candle. A man in a patched cloak sat on a chair at the far end of the room, standing up when the group entered. He wore the hood of his cloak pulled forward, obscuring his face while still allowing him to see, and when he moved, the flickering candlelight glinted off his chest, suggesting a chainmail beneath his cloak. The man stepped forward, still careful not to reveal his face, and extended his hand to Ember. "Welcome! I've looked forward to meeting you," he said. His voice was deep and pleasant. "I am Aran Linvail."

She'd heard that name before. If rumour spoke true, she was talking to the head of the Shadow Thieves in Athkatla. "As you know, I am Ember," she said, and briefly clasped his hand. "What would you have of us?"

"What I would have is quite simple. I wish to propose a trade of services."

"Oh? I propose that you supply what we have coming already," she said icily. "We have paid, after all."

"I assure you, all that you have paid has been put to good use. And you will be compensated for your gold." Linvail took a pouch from his belt and displayed its contents; a ring and an amulet, both gleaming with enchantments. "Accept my offer, and these will be yours to keep, regardless of what comes."

"Trinkets?" Anomen burst out. "You expect to appease us with a few baubles we could have found at the local bazaar? We have more important things to worry about!"

"(Those are no mere baubles...)" Edwin muttered.

"I know you are eager to set off after Imoen, and I assure you that the time will come soon. There are merely some added difficulties that we have encountered."

"And what kind of difficulties might that be?" Ember asked.

"The ongoing guild war... it prevents us going further." Linvail's voice turned harsh with anger. "You have met the leader of our rivals, Bodhi; she is a vampire, and we believe many of her key servants are the same. Normally, our opposition would have been dealt with in short order, but my people are trained to deal with others of their kind, not such... creatures. They strike when we least expect, and without warning; a dozen good men and women were lost to the vampires only last night. Shipments have been disappearing, and my employees with them... though I do not like to admit it, we are significantly weakened by this. Arranging to send a ship to Spellhold under these conditions would be utter folly."

"In other words, you have no intention of -"

Linvail cut Ember off. "Help me alter the conditions, and your ship will set sail tomorrow," he said. "We have located Bodhi's hideout amongst the deeper tombs in the Graveyard District. You have a cleric that is reported to be adept at dispersing the undead, and you are more honed for true battle than any number of my employees. Destroy the vampires for us, and I will fulfil our bargain immediately. What say you?"

What was there to say?

"You had better deliver on that promise," she said. "Rest assured, I will hold you to it."

"Boo does not trust you," Minsc added warningly. "Prove him wrong or face the boot!"

"Duly noted," Linvail said. He turned and gestured to Bayle, who brought a large sack into the room. It contained a number of stakes and several fluid-filled vials. "One does not send anyone after vampires without proper equipment," Linvail explained. "The holy water should smooth your way. The stakes are for truly finishing the creatures. When do you intend to move?"

"As soon as possible, of course," Ember said.

"Good. When you are ready, assemble within the west gate of the graveyard; I'll arrange for our contact to meet you there. She will open the entrance to the hideout for you," Linvail said, and thrust the pouch of jewelry into Ember's hands. "You will find these useful, I am sure. Report back to Gaelan Bayle when you are done. Good hunting."

-.-.-

"This course of action will lead to trouble," Yoshimo grumbled as the group walked towards the west gate of the Graveyards.

"As opposed to what?" Ember asked. "Have you forgotten that Bodhi's already declared us to be enemies?"

"No... not at all," Yoshimo said. "But we are perhaps... getting involved where we shouldn't be. That is... well..."

"I know," she sighed. "But what choice do we have?" She would have preferred to stay out of the Shadow Thieves' business if she could have, and she knew that most of her companions would have balked had they been asked to intervene in a regular guild war. But the current situation was different. They had heard the rumours, and they had met Bodhi. As Mazzy had put it, acting against such a creature could never be considered anything but a noble task, no matter who it was that asked them to perform the deed. "Truth be told," she said to Yoshimo, "I'd be happy to face any number of vampires, if only I could have Imoen back first!"

Yoshimo smiled. "A most understandable sentiment, my friend."

Behind them, Edwin and Mazzy were arguing about the jewelry Linvail had given the group. As Edwin had ascertained, the ring bore powerful protective magics, and was a king's prize in its own right, but it paled in comparison to the amulet. Wrought from silver entwined with illithium, a metal that would brook no impurity, the amulet would ward its wearer from any form of undead energy, including a vampire's lifedraining powers; in addition, it held several enchantments that'd benefit any spellcaster. Naturally, Edwin coveted it, but Mazzy objected, insisting that both Ember and Anomen would have better use for the illithium than he would.

"None can utilize its powers as well as I," Edwin complained, "and you know it!"

"Unless you intend to be on the front line against the vampires," Mazzy said, "I must beg to differ!"

"Why (yes, why!) must you focus on that single property?!"

"All this shouting is giving Boo a headache," Minsc grumbled, and turned to glare at Edwin.

Anomen said a few quiet words to Mazzy, then both of them spoke to Edwin; after a brief conversation, Anomen approached Ember and put the amulet in her hands. "Edwin agreed to relinquish the amulet," he said, "and has been granted the ring. I trust you do not mind?"

"Not at all," Ember said, and held the amulet out to him. "You should wear this."

"Nay, my lady, you must wear it," he said, and closed her fingers around the amulet.

"But -"

"Should it come to the worst, I may be resurrected. How could I claim this amulet knowing you do not have that option?" he said quietly, then added, "My armour offers greater physical protection than your leathers, and I am thus already at an advantage. I insist; it must be yours."

He looked intently, beseechingly at her; her heart beat faster as she met his gaze. Could she deny him anything, she wondered, when he looked at her like that? "If you put it that way," she said lightly, and let him fasten the amulet around her neck.

-.-.-

The group continued onwards in a silence that was only broken by Minsc, humming softly to Boo, and arrived at the west gate in short order. At first, they seemed to be alone, but as soon as they walked through the gates and into the graveyard itself, a woman swathed in a dark cloak stepped forward to meet them. " _Abbil,_ " the woman said, and tilted her head almost imperceptibly in greeting before pulling back the hood that concealed her dark face. "Are you prepared for this task?"

"Viconia," Ember said, recognizing the drow priestess they'd encountered twice before. "We are prepared and ready."

Viconia's gaze drifted to Ember's side, where her scimitar hung in its sheath. "I see you've replaced your sword," she said.

"Yes, I have," Ember said, resting her hand on the scimitar's hilt. "The other blade was destroyed."

A cold smile creased the drow's lips. "Pity," she said, and pulled her hood up again. "Come. We descend now."

The entrance was through an old, neglected tomb; its rusted gates hung ajar, offering no hindrance, and the marble slab that should have sealed off the inner tomb lay shattered on the ground. A large hole in one of the interior walls revealed a tunnel. The group followed Viconia down the winding tunnel into a large chamber, where a giant skeleton was guarding a pair of blue stone doors. The drow priestess pulled an amulet that looked like a disc of pure black from within her tunic, and held it aloft. Darkness seemed to congeal around it. Ember's skin crawled.

Viconia spoke. The skeleton lurched, trembled, and walked unsteadily towards the stone doors; the sound of creaking bones mingled with that of stone against stone as the skeleton, with inhuman strength, forced the doors open. Once its task was completed, the skeleton turned around and stood still, its attention riveted on Viconia.

"It will attack when I release it," Viconia said. "You would be wise to strike first."

"Understood," Ember said. "Minsc, remember the bone golem?"

"Minsc remembers well!" He strode up to the skeleton, looked closely at it, then walked behind it and jammed his blade in between the skull and the neck. There was a sickening crack; the skull came loose, and as it fell to the ground, the rest of the skeleton crumbled to a lifeless pile of old bones.

"I leave now," Viconia said. "The vampires await you beyond that doorway. May darkness take them!"

The drow headed back up the tunnel, and Ember and Anomen set about saying protective prayers over the group, warding them all as best they could.

"A curious woman, this Viconia," Yoshimo said. "I find myself wondering why Linvail did not ask her to assist us further."

"Her powers stem from evil," Mazzy said, "and I, for one, cannot help but feel relief that she will not fight by my side."

As soon as everyone was ready, they passed through the doorway and entered a large, decrepit-looking chamber. Two ghouls shambled towards them; with a few words and a gesture, Anomen destroyed them.

It had begun.


	53. Chapter 124: Comprehension

**Chapter 124: Comprehension**

The vampires' lair had been built in a series of catacombs that lay buried beneath the current graveyard. While neither as old nor as expansive as the catacombs under the Temple district, the interlinked chambers still spanned a considerable area; a hundred men could easily have hidden within the lair. Almost every single chamber contained something horrific; gutted and drained corpses, bloodstains on the floors and walls, knives of all shapes and sizes. The smell of blood was thick in the air, and even as it made Ember's stomach turn, she could feel how her own tainted blood was drawn to it. The feeling repulsed her as much as the lair itself did; she couldn't wait for them to be done with the place.

At first, the group encountered nothing but a few ghouls, feeding off of the remnants of dead bodies, but when they continued deeper into the lair, they soon found the vampires. The creatures were different from any undead Ember had seen before; some of them seemed like little more than animated corpses, others looked as nearly normal as Bodhi, but they all had long, sharp fangs, and they all had a preternatural strength that easily rivalled Minsc's. Where other undead were near mindless, the vampires moved and acted with a clear purpose, and several of them had a striking, almost domineering presence. It was little wonder that the Shadow Thieves didn't want to confront them themselves; the vampires made for quite formidable foes.

As Linvail had suggested, Anomen's abilities against the undead came as a blessing. While he couldn't destroy the vampires the way he'd destroyed the ghouls, he was able to make them fearful and bewildered, which made their job far easier than it otherwise might have been. The creatures still fought ferociously, but by advancing carefully and focusing their efforts, the group made steady progress; one by one, the vampires were forced to abandon their physical forms and flee to their coffins.

After a while, the group halted in one of the larger chambers in order to replenish their protective spells. It was a strange place, even when compared with the rest of the lair, and appeared more than anything like a mad alchemist's workroom. Shelves stacked with potted entrails and glowing powders lined the walls, competing for space with workbenches full of tools that reminded Ember uncomfortably of Irenicus's dungeon. One workbench held a meticulously dissected corpse while another bench seemed fairly innocuous, holding only a few small jars and a pile of books, all of which were bound in smooth black leather.

"(Conjur Ota Servanta. Dea Vampir Becomos. The Vampiricus Omnibus: Unabridged,)" Edwin muttered, reading the titles off the books' spines. He reached out to pick up one of the books, but withdrew his hand with a disgusted yelp; the book he had touched was drenched in blood.

One object in the room seemed oddly out of place; a gleaming mace lay on in a puddle of dried blood in one of the corners. It looked almost like the vampires had attempted to douse the weapon with blood, but while the handle was completely covered by a brittle, brown coating, there wasn't a single speck on the mace's head.

"How strange," Mazzy said, carefully picking up the mace. "Do you think it is illithium?"

"(Is she blind?) Of course it is!" Edwin said sourly. "And yes, it will ward you, just like the amulet."

"Excellent," Mazzy said, and poured holy water on the blood-encrusted handle. The old, dried blood crumbled to dust and fell away from the weapon. "Ah, much better. Here, my friend; you know best how to wield this," she said, and gave the mace to Anomen.

The mace soon proved its worth; its touch seemed to burn through the undead flesh of the vampires, harming them in a way the group's other weapons never could have. The most dramatic demonstration of the mace's abilities came when the group confronted a female vampire with mage powers. She summoned illusory copies of herself to mislead the group while she attacked them with acid and lightning, but Anomen managed to see through her illusions, and when he struck her real form with the illithium mace, her body was destroyed.

Before long, they'd passed through the entire lair, ending up in a large chamber that was held nothing but several closed coffins. This, then, was the retreat of the vampires they'd bested, the place that their ghostly essences would have fled to in order to rest and restore their physical bodies. All told, there were almost two dozen of them.

"Where might Bodhi be?" Ember wondered. "There hasn't been a trace of her so far, and she can't possibly be out in the daylight."

"Who cares?" Edwin snapped. "Let us finish what we came for, and begone!"

"Boo wonders if she is in one of the coffins," Minsc said. "And if she is, she will meet the buttkicking stake of goodness, just like the rest of them!" He charged at the closest coffin and effortlessly ripped the lid off. One of the vampires they'd bested earlier lay within, his recuperating body looking as frail as a pile of sculpted ashes. Minsc pulled a stake from his belt and put it through the vampire's heart. The body crumbled away, now truly a pile of ashes and dust.

"Be at peace," Mazzy murmured, and sprinkled the coffin and its contents with holy water.

One by one, they opened the coffins. Some of the vampires were in a state of recovery, some were sleeping, some woke up as their resting place was disturbed; for Minsc, it made no difference. He thrust stakes through their chests with an almost frightening efficiency, and in their true deaths, they all ended up as similar piles of ashes.

They were down to the last few coffins when Bodhi arrived.

-.-.-

Out of nowhere, Bodhi appeared in the doorway to the chamber. The vampire leaned casually against the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest and a mildly displeased look on her face; apparently, the destruction of almost a score of her minions didn't warrant any stronger reaction. "Hmm... I had hoped it would not come to this, but you are set in your path, aren't you," she said, gazing coldly at Ember.

"What would you know of my 'path'?" Ember replied, trying to not show any surprise at Bodhi's sudden arrival.

"I know about many things; about you, your employers, what they intend. Can you say as much? Do you truly know these people cloaked in shadow?"

"We know enough, evil woman!" Minsc cried. "We know they are not as wicked as you!"

"You may believe what I say, or not. I have little concern about the matter," the vampire said, ignoring Minsc and keeping her gaze fixed on Ember. "Tell me, have the Shadow Thieves done more than promise? Have they delivered anything, or have they simply made certain you are always within reach?"

Ember didn't reply, but her face must have given her away; the vampire smiled knowingly at her.

"I do not blame you for being confused as to what their goals are. Have they said why they sought your service? Why they offered to help you?"

"I don't care," Ember said. "It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?" The vampire smiled again, revealing her fangs. "Even if their interest in you should be more than simply mercenary? Would it matter, I wonder, if they knew full well who you are... and what you are?"

Ember stared at Bodhi.

"You look surprised," the vampire purred. "Yes, I know what you are, child of Bhaal. Irenicus told me. Imagine how much more he might have learned of you, awakened in you, had not the thieves interrupted him."

"I knew it! You've been in league with him all along!" Ember shouted.

"Remarkably perceptive for one who sees so little," Bodhi said lazily. "Why, even Imoen escaped your notice."

Ember's world froze. In a single, horrible moment of clarity, she understood exactly what Bodhi meant.

"Yes," Bodhi laughed. "There is much to learn about you both. Battle can teach as well." She beckoned Ember closer with a long, pale finger. "Come, let us both learn a thing or two."

Minsc needed no further encouragement. With a bloodcurdling roar, he charged at Bodhi; she sidestepped him with one swift movement and raked her talonlike nails across his cheek. Almost simultaneously, Mazzy stabbed at her thigh with her short sword, while Anomen swung his mace at her. The vampire easily dodged the mace, but Mazzy's sword struck true. Bodhi hissed with pain, turned, and gave Mazzy a vicious kick that sent her tumbling across the floor. A red glow filled the room as Edwin hurled a cluster of magic missiles at the vampire, making him the second one to manage to injure the vampire, a feat for which he was rewarded with a brutal punch in the chest.

Bodhi smiled, almost laughed, as she seemed to dance between her foes, avoiding almost every attack that was aimed at her while lashing out with powerful blows of her own. She was far stronger and more agile than any of her destroyed minions; even without weapons, she was toying with them.

Ember roused herself. "Thrice-cursed abomination!" she shouted, so full of hatred that she felt like she might burst, and rushed forward to slash across the vampire's belly. Her blade grazed the pale skin, making a long, shallow cut. Black blood welled forth from it. Not enough; she wanted more! She raised her arm to strike again, but with a quick thrust, Bodhi blocked her blade, then hurled her against one of the coffins. The force was enough to knock the breath out of her, and she narrowly avoided hitting her head on the corner of the coffin lid.

Bodhi leaped, kicked Anomen's shield arm out of her way, and was suddenly well outside the doorway again. "Well, that certainly was... educational," she said. "I have seen enough, and I am done with you... for now."

"What manner of creature are you?" Mazzy cried, clutching her elbow. "Is this all a game to you?"

"Perhaps, but games can be deadly serious, especially when I keep the rules to myself." Bodhi smiled icily at them, then her body contorted violently. In an instant, she had vanished, and a small black bat flitted away down a darkened corridor.

-.-.-

Bodhi was gone. The lair was silent.

Ember got back on her feet and went to Minsc. "Let me see your face," she told him. The claw marks on his cheek were still bleeding; she had to tend to them.

"My lady! Are you injured?" Anomen asked behind her. She shook her head and said a simple healing spell over Minsc's cuts, studiously avoiding meeting his gaze as she did so. If she worked quickly, the marks might not scar...

Minsc put a massive hand on her shoulder, commanding her attention. "Don't be afraid, little Ember," he said quietly. "Boo says it will be all right."

She lowered her hands. They were trembling.

"What did she mean?!" Edwin asked, his voice edged with panic. "What does she know? (She must have been lying!)"

"Imoen," Ember said. "Imoen is... like me."

Mazzy gasped.

"This changes nothing! Nothing at all!" Edwin shrieked. "And I will personally immolate **anyone** cowardly enough to desert her now!" His hands were glowing with latent fire.

"Easy now, wizard. Who said anything about leaving?" Yoshimo said calmly. "I, for one, must see this through to the end. Mustn't we all?" He looked around the room.

"It is as Yoshimo says," Mazzy said. "None of us could, in good conscience, abandon the group at this point."

"Swear it!" Edwin demanded.

"Edwin! Let it lie," Ember snapped, then sighed deeply. She desperately needed fresh air. She needed to see the sun. "Please, let us just leave this place."


	54. Chapter 125: Understanding

**Chapter 125: Understanding**

When the group returned to Bayle's home to report, they were given a hearty welcome. Smiling broadly, Bayle ushered them into his still-darkened parlour, fetched a bottle of suspiciously fine wine and some goblets, and bid them wait there for 'but a moment'. He left, and a short while later the cloaked man they knew as Aran Linvail entered the room, accompanied by a young woman of slight build who, just like him, hid her face within a hood.

"So, you have returned," Linvail said cheerfully, seating himself; the woman positioned herself behind his chair. "My advance spies said that you confronted Bodhi in her lair. It must have been a bloody affair."

"So to speak," Yoshimo murmured.

"It was," Mazzy said. "We destroyed many of Bodhi's followers, but she herself eluded us."

"A pity, but it is of no real consequence. You have done well, and for that I am grateful," Linvail said. "I have already set things in motion for your departure. Yes, my friends, your ship will leave on the morning tide; you need not look so surprised."

"Considering the lengthy delay we have endured," Anomen said, "I feel some disbelief is still warranted."

"That may be so, my good knight, but even I cannot send a ship to Brynnlaw if there are none in the harbour that are willing to go."

"(Brynnlaw?)" Edwin muttered.

"The island where the Spellhold asylum is located. It is under its own rule, and even the Cowled Wizards are not certain of what becomes of those sent there," Linvail said. "It is not a place that anyone wants to be associated with; just booking passage there is difficult enough. That is what your gold was for."

"Why are you doing this for me?" Ember asked.

"You paid for our assistance, did you not?"

"Why was it offered in the first place?"

Linvail poured himself some wine. "You have earned an explanation, I suppose," he said. "It started with Bodhi, and her arrival in town. We did not even know her name at the time; what we did know was that our members were threatened and seduced into her guild, and then never seen again. It was not long after that that we came to learn of Irenicus and his strange dungeon. Without going into details, we had reason to believe he was linked to our losses, and struck against him." He sighed. "You know what happened next. In the aftermath, we found the remains of some of our people in his dungeon, but far from all of them were accounted for. We still don't know what became of the rest; even Bodhi's cadre could not have fed on them all."

"Thus you still seek your answers," Anomen said.

"We do," Linvail said. He raised his goblet to his lips and took a draught from it. "This is where you enter, or exit, as it were. Other than Irenicus and Imoen, you three," he gestured at Ember, Minsc and Yoshimo with the goblet, "were the only people to emerge from Irenicus's lair alive. Naturally, you caught our interest. We followed you. At first, we wondered if you might be his servants -"

"Never!" Minsc roared. "No hero would ever commit such wrongness! Minsc would sooner cut off his hands than let them serve evil! And what would Boo say?"

"Indeed," Linvail chuckled, "and it did not take us long to reach that conclusion ourselves. We'd hoped you might somehow lead us to Irenicus, and when we learned of your quest, we saw it as a most promising opportunity. You wanted Imoen, we wanted Irenicus, and they were both taken to the same place; our desires converged. With the way things were, we could not justify sending a full team of our own to Spellhold; aiding you, on the other hand, was fully feasible, and might well allow us to get what we seek after all."

"But I do not seek Irenicus," Ember said.

"Which would pose a problem, if I were to send you to Spellhold by yourself." Linvail turned towards the woman behind him, and gave her a slight nod. She stepped forward and pulled back her hood, revealing an attractive face with delicate features; a mischievous grin played in the corners of her dark eyes. "This is Sime," Linvail said. "She is to accompany you; she knows much of Brynnlaw and its denizens, which should make it easier to find a way to breach Spellhold itself. Once you have succeded in that, she is to learn what she can on our behalf."

Smiling, Sime bowed slightly. "Pleased to meet you," she said. "I hope our time together will prove fruitful."

"I am certain it will," Yoshimo said.

"I must have you know," Anomen said, "that I will not condone any untoward measures -"

"Good sir, you do not know Brynnlaw, or you would not speak like that," Sime said. "I know people who may be able to smooth the path for us, but do not forget: Brynnlaw is essentially lawless, and what little rule there is is thrust upon the place by a pirate lord. If you want to get anything done at all there, you'll have to dirty your hands a bit."

"I am no fool," Anomen huffed. "I merely expect us to do what must be done without unduly compromising ourselves. Do you understand my intent?"

"I do," she replied with a grin, "and I did."

"You made it sound as though you needed Ember as much as she needed you," Mazzy said to Linvail. "Why, then, the exorbitant price? Why the subterfuge?"

"We had to be sure of your loyalties and abilities," Linvail said. "We needed to know that those we sent to Brynnlaw would not turn on us, and that they were, at the very least, competent enough to have a chance at getting the task done. But make no mistake: your gold was much needed, as was the destruction of the vampire's lair."

"Our attacking her served as a final test of our qualities, I suppose?"

"Perhaps," Linvail said. He emptied his goblet and put it on the table in front of him. "Do you have any further questions?"

"No," Ember said. She didn't need to know if they knew what she was. They almost certainly did. And it didn't matter.

"Good. Now, there is much to do before your ship leaves. Go with Sime; she will handle the details." Linvail stood up from his chair and gave Ember a firm handshake. "You have my best wishes, Ember. May we all find what we seek."

-.-.-

The remainder of the day was spent in busy preparation. The group met with Saemon Havarian, the gratingly flamboyant captain of the ship that was to take them to Spellhold. They pored over a rough map of Brynnlaw along with Sime, who described the key locations on the island. They bought new supplies and readied their gear. They gathered for a final supper at the Copper Coronet.

By nightfall, there was nothing left to do.

Ember was in the middle of rearranging the contents of her pack for the fourth time when there was a knock on her door. She opened it; Anomen stood there with a look of concern on his face. Wordlessly, she let him enter.

"How do you fare, my lady?" he asked once he'd closed the door behind him.

She shrugged.

"Do you wish to speak of it?"

"What is there to say?" she asked. She picked up her spare tunic, rolled it up, and stuffed it into her pack. "I should have realized," she muttered.

"How is that?"

"So many things make sense now. The way she killed Sarevok... what Irenicus did to her... and judging by my dreams, my blood certainly knew!" The tunic still didn't fit in the pack the way she wanted; she pulled it out again. "Gorion must have known," she said. "Why didn't he tell us?"

"He was, perchance, prevented -"

"She didn't deserve this!" she shouted. "She never asked for it!"

"Neither did you, my lady."

Her chest ached. Hot, angry tears welled up in her eyes. "It's not fair," she whispered.

He put his arms around her and pulled her close to himself. The warmth of his body seemed to shatter the cold, hard lump that had been lodged in her chest ever since they left the lair; unable to hold back any longer, she broke down in tears. He held her close while she wept, whispering calming sounds and gently stroking her hair as he did so.

"Thank you," she murmured when she finished crying. She dried her face with her sleeve and added with an apologetic smile, "I think I've stained your tunic."

"An intractable disaster, I am sure," he said with a small laugh, and smoothed her hair away from her forehead. "I... I hope you feel a little better."

"I do, I suppose," she said, and sighed heavily. "I'm scared for her, Anomen."

"I know, my lady."

"It was bad enough before, but now... I can't stop wondering if she's having my nightmares. And does she even know? I don't think she knew before she was taken..." She shook her head. "She shouldn't be alone."

"She will not. Not for much longer."

"And what of her future? She's like me... we never laid any grand plans for what we wanted to do with ourselves - and that's perhaps for the best, all considering - but... it's different when you have no bounds, no limits." A fresh tear trickled down her cheek. "But she isn't free. She's bound by the same prophecies as I am."

"You know my feelings in regard to those prophecies," he said quietly, and wiped away the tear. His hand lingered by her cheek, just barely touching it, and his dark blue eyes fixed on hers. She gazed into them, unable to look away from what she saw there: more than loyalty, more than sympathy, and far more than friendship.

His cheeks flushed. "Ember..." he whispered.

She kissed him.

-.-.-

The group assembled on the docks just after sunrise the next morning. Sime met with them there, and led them to Havarian's ship, the _Galante_. The ship was bustling with activity as the sailors prepared it for departure.

"All accounted for?" Havarian asked, coming down the gangplank with a broad grin plastered on his face. "Good, good; we are fully staffed and ready to sail, and a fine day for it it is!"

"We will be reaching our destination in good time, then?" Sime asked.

"I have travelled this sea a good many times, and I foresee no troubles. Aye, four days, maybe five, should get us there - provided we do not encounter pirates of ill repute, of course."

"Of course," Sime said smoothly. "But you will do your best to prevent that from happening, I trust."

The Shadow Thief lowered her voice, as did the captain; Ember could no longer make out their conversation. Her attention moved to the ship. It was a small ship, with patched sails and a weather-beaten hull, and the nameplate on its prow appeared to be on the verge of falling off. Just looking at the ship made her uneasy. "It's so worn," she murmured.

"Worn, but well kept," Yoshimo said. "Every rift in the sails has been mended, every broken board replaced... trust me, my friend, this vessel will do nicely." He grinned. "It is far more sound than the ship that once brought me from Kara-Tur."

Sime and Havarian finished talking, and walked up the gangplank. The captain bellowed, "All aboard!"

"My lady, may I?" Anomen asked, offering her his hand. A pleasant warmth coursed through her as their eyes met, and her unease melted away as she took in the joy that lit up his face.

"You may," she said, smiling.

He took her hand in his, and they both blushed as he kissed it before escorting her up the gangplank. A gust of breeze ruffled her hair and made the sails billow slightly. She squeezed his hand, relishing in the touch.

It was as Minsc had told her; everything would be all right. The ship was sound. She had her friends with her. She had Anomen.

And soon, she would have her sister back!


	55. Chapter 126: Passage

**Chapter 126: Passage**

Even though Ember had been brought up by the ocean, the journey to Brynnlaw was the first time she'd ever sailed upon it. In many ways, the experience was far from as pleasant as she'd imagined it might be. She couldn't get used to the ever-changing pitch and swell of the vessel, and at night, the creaking of the _Galante_ 's hull would awaken her from dreams of falling from trees or being trapped in collapsing buildings. The air smelled different, the sky looked different; even their food tasted different from what she was accustomed to. On the open sea with no land in sight, she was unable to reliably gauge the speed of their passage, and time seemed to pass at a snail's pace.

Thankfully, there were aspects of the journey were more enjoyable. She had always liked watching the ocean, and even though she was surrounded by a bit too much of it for her tastes at the present, she still enjoyed looking at the waves; even as she yearned to see a patch of green again, she found beauty in the shifting blues and greys of the sea and sky. Through her morning meditations, she soon discovered that the waters around her - or beneath her, as it were - were teeming with life, and much of it came in shapes and forms that were unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. A whole different universe lay hidden beneath the seemingly barren waves, and each morning, she felt blessed to be the only one on the ship who was wholly and completely aware of it.

And then there was Anomen.

Everything had changed between them; in a way, she felt like she was getting to know him for the first time all over again. He was no longer just her companion and fellow healer, no longer just the knight who had sworn himself to her service; now, he was the man who openly loved her, the man who'd confessed to wanting to pledge her his heart along with his service back at the Order's headquarters, the man who made her heart beat faster just by the way he looked at her. He was the same man as before, but at the same time, he was someone new and infinitely different.

"I almost feel like my entire life's been turned upside down," she told him one late evening as they sat together in a quiet spot on the port side of the ship. Above them, the vivid colours of the sunset had all but faded away, giving way to a deep blue twilight. "So much has changed in only a few days."

"More for the better than for the worse, I hope," he said.

"I think so," she said. "I'm more worried about Imoen than ever, but at least I'm on my way to her now. And... even as anxious as I am to find her, I don't think I've ever been happier."

"May I flatter myself that I might bear some responsibility for that?"

"What, for my being anxious?" she asked with a wry grin.

He chuckled softly, and smiled at her. "I must admit that I, too, have never felt happier than these past few days. Nor has my heart ever felt so calm."

"You've seemed much more at ease with yourself ever since your Holy Vigil."

"Aye, that is part of it - even more so than passing my Test, I believe - but my happiness has a different source," he said, looking intently at her. "A scant tenday ago I would not have thought this to be possible," he murmured.

"Me neither," she said, and took his hand, idly running her thumb over the calluses that years of weapons training had left on his palm. A tenday ago, she'd thought his Order was on the verge of taking him away from her. "I was so certain we could never..." She glanced at him, and smiled. "I'm glad I was wrong."

"As am I, my love," he said. Gripping her hand, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. Behind them, one of the sailors that manned the ship gave a loud whistle; another sailor cheered. Anomen sighed, and released her. "I would be gladder yet, were we elsewhere!" he grumbled exasperatedly.

"I'd settle for them being elsewhere," she said, and watched the sailors move on towards the ship's prow, where they joined several others in working on something that was hidden behind a large sheet of canvas. As the canvas shifted, the sailors' faces were lit by brief bursts of light. "Strange. What do you think they're doing?" she asked.

Anomen frowned. "I have a notion or two," he said. "Come, let us find out."

Following the sailors to the prow, they found captain Havarian, instructing his men as they masked and unmasked a large lantern by raising a smaller sheet of canvas in front of it. Sime was there too, watching the sailors with a displeased scowl on her face.

"So, more of our guests wish to join us," Havarian said as Ember and Anomen approached. "Have no fear, you are more than welcome to watch the proceedings!"

"Whom are we signalling?" Anomen asked.

"Why, nobody," the captain said, grinning broadly. He pointed towards the southern horizon, where two ships were outlined against the rapidly darkening sky; both ships were signalling with flashes of lights. "You see those? They're pirate vessels, and we're letting them think we are one of their kind."

"This is a bad idea," the Shadow Thief protested. "How could mimicking their signal -"

"Don't worry yourself, young lady," the captain said in a patronizing tone. "I've dealt with such pirates before. Wait and see."

Sime glared at him, but said nothing, and moved to stand beside Ember and Anomen while the sailors continued working with the signal lantern. After a while, the flashes in the distance ceased, and the sails on the horizon disappeared. The other ships, whatever they were, seemed to be drawing away.

"There! What did I tell you?" Havarian said with a satisfied smirk, and instructed his men to extinguish the signal lantern. "Our ruse worked. We are safe, and our journey continues."

"If you say so, captain," Sime said evenly. She gave Ember a meaningful look and started walking towards the main deck; Ember and Anomen followed her. "I do not trust that man," the Shadow Thief murmured quietly, shaking her head. "He has the manner of a fool, but his behaviour tells me otherwise. This signalling could easily be something other than what he claims. It worries me."

"I don't like it either," Ember said. "Why would he know what to signal to the pirates? It makes no sense!"

"I could allow for such knowledge to be a means of survival in these waters," Anomen said. "However, I must say that in the three days we have spent on this vessel, I have seen naught that would lead me to believe Havarian would have any scruples whatsoever about associating with such... people."

"I agree," Sime said. "He may not run a pirate crew himself, but I could easily see him trading with them, for instance."

"He could be trading **us** ," Ember grumbled.

"'Indeed, if he intends to act against us, it will not be directly," Anomen said. "His men do not strike me at all as the mercenary sort, or, truth be told, even remotely combat-worthy. If it were to come to blows, I believe we should easily overpower the entire crew."

"In all likelihood, we need not be too concerned," Sime said. "Havarian would have to be insane to go against Linvail's wishes, and he is fully aware of that. I made certain he was."

"Threats, then, secure our safety on this passage?" Anomen asked dubiously.

"Threats, and the common knowledge of what happens to those who cross the Shadow Thieves," Sime said, her voice hard. "Suffice to say that our threats tend to be unnecessary."

"Nevertheless, we must be alert and vigilant, even more so than before," Anomen said.

Sime nodded. "Just continue to follow your tenets, Helmite," she said. "And your group should keep posting a watch at night, as I've noticed you've been doing - unless it's that you all have problems sleeping, that is. It's a wise precaution, and in this situation, it's probably the best thing you could do."

"It seemed like a good idea," Ember said. "We're not exactly on familiar ground on this ship, after all."

"In more ways than one, hm?"

"I suppose so," Ember smiled.

Sime grinned. "With any luck, this'll be our last night on board. We should reach Brynnlaw tomorrow, and then we can go back to worrying about more important things than Havarian."

"I can't wait," Ember said with mock cheer. Anomen squeezed her hand.

"I know, my friend," Sime said, smiling understandingly. She bid them goodnight, and went to her cabin.

With a heavy sigh, Ember looked out over the ocean. There was a chill in the night air that hadn't been there earlier. "Why can't we be there already?" she lamented.

"Patience, my love," Anomen said. "Anything might happen between now and our arrival at Spellhold, but I would not have you dwell on worries that might well prove needless. For now, let us be on our guard, and keep in mind that those ships did recede rather than approach."

"I know, I know. It's just that we're so close..."

"I understand," he said, and took her hands in his. "Ember, I will not see you thwarted at the very threshold of reclaiming your sister. Whatever surprises Havarian or Brynnlaw might have in store for us, we shall overcome them."

She looked at him. "Promise?"

"Most solemnly," he said, and embraced her. "You should go and get some sleep, my lady. The first watch is mine."

Compared to being in his arms, leaving him in order to sleep in a small, creaking cabin held very little allure. "Do you mind if I keep you company for a while instead?"

"You know I do not," he smiled.

They sat down together on a large wooden supply chest. He put his arm around her, and she leaned against him. Even in this seemingly relaxed position, she felt an alert tenseness in him; even as he held her, his attention was mainly on their surroundings. He was on watch now, doing his duty as their guardian.

Her guardian.

Safely nestled against his warmth, she closed her eyes and let her mind rest.

-.-.-

The following afternoon, a craggy, lopsided island loomed out of the cloudy haze on the southwestern horizon. "That's Brynnlaw," Sime said. "Spellhold is built on its northern cliffs; you can just about see it, jutting out from the shape of the island."

Squinting, Ember could just barely make out an irregular shape sticking out from the rest of the island's outline. Was that what Sime meant? "It's that big?" she asked uneasily.

"Its intent is that of an asylum, but it is built like a fortress," Sime explained. "After all, it was designed to contain mages and other... talented people. It had to be able to withstand anything its inhabitants could throw against it."

"I am certain many are there deservedly," Yoshimo muttered. "Yes, of that I am certain. Some must deserve it."

"Perhaps, but Imoen does not," Ember snapped. Even from such a distance, the mere sight of the place sent chills down her spine.

"I did not mean to suggest otherwise. Just that some must deserve it," Yoshimo said, and added thoughtfully, "Can it be so cruel a place?"

"Cruel or kind," Minsc bellowed, "Boo and I have several talents we will unleash upon it!"

"And so you shall, my friend," Mazzy said, patting Minsc's arm. "Come, the island is still far off, and I, for one, do not like the sight of it. Let us busy ourselves elsewhere while we wait."

Ember glanced a final time at the island and followed her friends away from the prow.


	56. Chapter 127: Brynnlaw

**Chapter 127: Brynnlaw**

The _Galante_ reached port on Brynnlaw in pouring rain an hour after sundown. The port itself was a very small town, little more than a collection of ramshackle houses perched on the low cliffs on the south side of the island. To the north of loomed the towering bulk of Spellhold, a distinct presence even in the dark; wreathed in mist and rain, the asylum seemed almost like a dark giant that had crawled up on the northern cliffs and stood posed to devour the town. Somehow, Ember was convinced it'd look no friendlier a place in clear daylight. She shivered.

"We have arrived, and in good time, I might add," Havarian said while the sailors busied themselves with mooring the ship. "Congratulatory remarks for all the crew, and to our visitors for their delightful company."

"(Delightful company? Bah!)" Edwin grumbled, and muttered something about witless, imbecilic sailors and how much they all deserved a fireball for harassing him.

"We had to make the best of it," Yoshimo said, and grinned at the captain. "I, myself, managed to win a fair amount of coin from your crew... they seemed to think they were the only ones who knew how to play cards, oddly."

"A particular congratulations to you, captain, for distracting those other ships last night," Sime said. "It did seem that the pirates, if that is what they were, truly believed your signal meant they should stay away from us."

Havarian chuckled. "It merely proves how short of wit they can be. One must always be a step ahead of one's adversaries."

"And a step behind one's friends," Yoshimo said. "I trust no more will happen to hamper our success."

"I have done what I can, as captain, and as compatriot. I can do no more," Havarian said as the gangplank was lowered. "Now, I leave you to your mission, whatever it may be. It has been a pleasure sailing in your company."

The group made their farewells, and disembarked. "Where do we go now?" Mazzy asked Sime as they walked down the docks.

"To the Vulgar Monkey. It's the least seedy inn on this island; there are almost no bugs in its rooms, and if you don't mind the ruckus from the common room, it's actually possible to sleep there," Sime grinned. "Sanik, my contact, lives at the inn. He says it's both easier and safer than trying to keep a house on his own in this place."

"He is a merchant, if I remember correctly?"

"You do. He's supplied the asylum with wine and other fine goods for the past two years. If there is a simple way to get inside, he'll almost certainly know of it; at the very least, I expect he'll -"

Something shifted in the shadows between the two closest buildings; moments later, three women emerged. They were unarmed, and dressed far too scantily for the weather, but the way they moved suggested they were far more dangerous than the courtesans they resembled. One of them smiled ferally, revealing sharp, white fangs.

"Vampires," Mazzy murmured.

"Pretty, pretty cattle," one of the vampires hissed, licking her pale lips. "Come, let us play."

Moving with inhuman speed, the creatures fell upon the group.

The vampires were strong, far stronger than any of the vampires the group had encountered so far save Bodhi herself, and just like with her, Anomen's powers barely seemed to cause them any discomfort at all. They moved in erratic circles around the group, making it impossible to focus their efforts on any one of them, or even be fully aware of where each danger would come from. Quickly, Ember chanted a spell that'd increase her friends' awareness of themselves and their foes, and Edwin and Anomen cast similar quick protections and blessings, but it was far from enough. The vampires easily dodged most of the blows that were aimed their way, and struck with claws and fangs at any opening they saw - except when it came to Ember. While everyone else had their hands full with deflecting the vampires' attacks, the creatures outright avoided her, stepping around her to strike the others in her stead, and when she charged at them, they merely moved away from her, not even bothering to counter.

"Bastards!" she shouted in despair. Behind her, Mazzy gave a choked scream; one of the vampires had grabbed her by the throat and picked her up, holding her suspended above the ground as it drained her life away. Ember barrelled into the vampire, putting her full weight behind the impact, and pummeled the monster with her fists until it released Mazzy. The vampire threw Ember aside with a cold laugh and reached for Mazzy again, but by then, they had Minsc's attention. Roaring with anger, the giant ranger brought his sword down on the vampire's arm, biting deep into the flesh and snapping the bones. The vampire spat at Minsc, but did not attack him. Abruptly, as if acting on a cue, it and the two other vampires withdrew, disappearing back into the shadows they'd come from.

"Run, cowardly evil!" Minsc bellowed furiously. "Boo will have your eyes yet!"

Mazzy lay still on the ground, her face as white as a sheet and her breath coming in shallow gasps. As gently as possible, Minsc scooped her up in his arms. Anomen hurried to them, placed a hand on Mazzy's chest, and started to pray.

"(Have I not suffered enough indignities?)" Edwin complained weakly. The vampires had drained him and Yoshimo as well as Mazzy, but thankfully, neither of them were doing quite as bad as she was.

"Is anyone else hurt?" Ember cried anxiously.

"I am well," Sime said, sheathing her daggers. "Minsc is well too, I believe, and both you and Anomen were warded."

"They wouldn't even touch me!"

"I noticed. They wanted you unharmed. And they knew of our arrival." Sime sighed disgustedly. "Havarian proved treacherous after all."

"There," Anomen said wearily, and slowly stepped away from Mazzy. "She should be recovered by morning. I can do no more. Edwin and Yoshimo will need a temple."

"There is one, consecrated to Umberlee," Sime said. "It is not far."

Moving quickly through almost empty streets, Sime led the group to the Umberlant temple, where they paid the brash priestess an exorbitant fee to have Edwin and Yoshimo restored. Once that was done, she took them to the Vulgar Monkey, a large building which, unlike most of the other buildings in town, had no broken windows or visible holes in its roof, and its walls had a greyish hue that suggested they might have been whitewashed once, a very long time ago. As the group approached, the front doors opened, and a pair of bouncers threw three drunken men out on the street.

"Pay them no mind," Sime said, and guided them all inside to speak with the innkeeper. The common room was noisy and crowded, but as it turned out, few of the men there were staying at the inn, and with a few gold coins, the Shadow Thief managed to secure separate rooms for the night for the entire group.

"Is Sanik here?" Sime asked the innkeeper as she paid for their rooms.

The innkeeper's face clouded with anger. "You're two days late. One of Galvena's cronies cut him down, right here in my tavern!" He spat on the floor. "Who does that uppity wench think she is?"

Sime's face fell. "Sanik is dead?"

"As dead as they get."

-.-.-

It was only when Mazzy, Edwin, and Yoshimo were safely resting that Anomen consented to lie down himself; by then, he was so exhausted that Minsc had to help him remove his armour. Ember took the armour pieces and piled them neatly on a chair while Minsc, ignoring Anomen's weak protestations, tucked him into bed as if he were a small child.

"Sleep now," Minsc said. "There is a lot of heroing to be done in the morning."

"Indeed," Anomen murmured, half asleep already. "My... my lady?"

"Yes?" She sat down on the side of his bed.

"This is but... a minor setback," he told her. "And we expected complications... did we not?"

She nodded glumly. "I'd rather have done without them, all the same."

"As would we all. But... it matters not. We shall persevere."

"I hope you're right," she said quietly, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "Sleep well, dearest."

By the time she and Minsc had stepped out of the room and closed the door, Anomen was fast asleep.

"Little Ember should sleep, too," Minsc said.

She shook her head. "I couldn't. Not yet, at least," she said. "Come, let's go talk with Sime. Maybe she has some other ideas."

They found Sime in the common room, sitting at a small table in a corner along with a man in a dark blue coat. Two mugs of ale stood on the table. "Ah, Ember, Minsc," Sime said, "come meet captain Golin. He was a friend of Sanik, and his supplier."

Captain Golin stood up and bowed. He was middle-aged, but still strong, and his dark hair had only the faintest touch of silver. "Greetings, friends. Sime's been filling me in on your story. Such a bloody shame that you had to hire Havarian! I would gladly have taken you here myself if I'd known, but as it is, my path hasn't crossed Athkatla since winter," he said.

"He's told me that Havarian's been seen in bad company, even by Brynnlaw standards," Sime said. "And he knows more about what happened to Sanik."

"Aye, and a sad tale it is, if you wish to hear it." The captain looked questioningly at Ember.

"I'd be happy to," Ember said, and took a seat beside Sime. Minsc pulled up a chair, positioned it so that he could watch the rest of the room, and seated himself.

"Well, then! Let's start with 'Lady' Galvena," Golin said, sitting down. "She's the mistress of the local festhall. I'm sure you can see how, in a port full of sailors, such an undertaking would bring the woman power and wealth, and Galvena most certainly grasped all that she could! She is a harsh woman, and here on Brynnlaw, she stands second only to Desharik, the pirate lord." He paused, and drank from his mug of ale. " Now, Sanik, fool that he was, fell in love with one of Galvena's girls, Claire, and she with him. He took her from the festhall and proclaimed her his wife. What he didn't account for was Galvena, who considers the courtesans her property. She accused Sanik of theft, and he scorned her in public. The whole town heard of it."

Ember shook her head in disgust. "And so she had him killed."

"Aye, that was Galvena's final response. He was killed, and Claire was taken back to the festhall. I suspect that she suffers for her mistake even as we speak."

"That is most horrible news!" Minsc said, slamming his fist against the table. "Minsc and Boo will not stand for it!"

"I was hoping you'd say that," Sime said. Her dark eyes glittered mischievously. "Have you ever broken into a festhall?"


	57. Chapter 128: Lady Galvena

**Chapter 128: Lady Galvena**

"This is madness," Ember told Sime as they walked towards the festhall, swathed in hooded oilcloaks and trying to act like just another pair of sailors. Minsc, similarly cloaked, walked a few steps behind them; the role of a strong, silent bodyguard was well known to him, and he took it up with ease.

"It'll be worth it," Sime said. "Claire might well know some of Sanik's secrets, after all."

Ember looked at the Shadow Thief. "And the rivers of Maztica might well flow with gold, but it's not very likely, is it?"

"Sanik was a friend," Sime said eventually.

"I figured as much," Ember said with a small smile.

A number of scantily clad men and women stood outside the festhall, clustered under a canvas awning that protected them from the rain. Sime looked them over, then approached a young, slender man who stood some distance away from the noisiest and most enthusiastic of his colleagues. She talked quietly with him; Ember watched the young man's expression change from puzzlement to worry to fearful determination as they spoke.

"Follow me, then, me dears," the young man said out loud, and beckoned for Sime and Ember to follow him. "Yer friend can come too, if he likes to watch." Minsc gave a start at that, but thankfully, he didn't protest, and they all followed the young man inside to his chamber. It was a room with no windows, it had no visible furnishings other than a very large bed made with red silk sheets.

"Boo is very embarrassed by all this!" Minsc announced once the door was shut behind him.

"That is perfectly acceptable, my friend, as long as Boo does not give us away," Sime told him, then turned to the young man. "Where are they holding Claire?"

"Galvena has 'er locked up in the basement," the young man said, "but she's got guards down there. I don't know how ye'd get past them."

"I do," Sime said, holding up a small vial. "This is a powerful sleeping draught. A few drops would knock out any man."

The young man's expression brightened. "Ye could give that to the cook, perhaps. Convince 'er to put it in their food... and put 'em to sleep!"

Sime grinned wickedly. "Precisely."

The kitchen was only a few doors down from the young man's chamber. The cook, a large woman with greying hair and worn features, was stirring a massive pot of stew that hung over the fire. The only other person in the kitchen was a scantily clad girl with baubles woven into her hair; she was chopping up some vegetables. The cook looked up from the stew as Sime, Ember and Minsc entered, and glared at them.

"Hmph. Who in the hells do you think you are?" the cook asked angrily. "This is my kitchen!"

"Oh, leave them alone, Ellie," the girl said, "they're probably some of the new ones that the Lady has brought in."

"That just means more work for me, girl," the cook huffed.

Sime stepped forward. "We are not of Galvena's people; in fact, we seek your aid to strike against her."

The girl's eyes went wide with excitement. "Ooooh! Intrigue!"

"Quiet, you!" the cook snapped. "Make yourself useful and peel some potatoes."

"Yes, Ellie," the girl said meekly, and returned to her basket of vegetables.

The cook turned to Sime. "Now, what in the blazes are you blathering about? Even if you're joking, Galvena will have your tongue if she hears about this."

"We have come to find a girl called Claire," Ember said. "We need your help to free her."

"I'm just a cook. What use could I possibly be?"

"I have this sleeping draught," Sime said, and showed the cook the glittering vial. "If you could slip it to the guards..."

The cook stared thoughtfully at the vial, then shook her head. "It wouldn't work. I could put it in the guards' ale easily enough, but there's still Galvena and her pet wizard. They're down in the cells with Claire; they've been there all day, and the only reason I don't think Claire's dead yet is that they haven't returned. Galvena is VERY angry with her, you see."

Ember's blood ran cold. "We will deal with Galvena and her wizard," she said firmly.

"Please, Ellie!" the girl cried. "It's our chance to get away from here!"

The cook sighed. "I'm old and tired. Even if Galvena kills me I won't be missing much," she said. "But if we take care of the guards, you had better take this all the way. We shall die if you don't."

"You have our word," Sime said, and thrust the vial into the cook's hands.

-.-.-

The basement was eerily quiet.

Four guards lay on the floor, snoring gently in their drugged sleep. Moisture trickled down the stones of the walls and stained the wooden doors, some of which were half rotted. There were over a dozen doors in the basement, and it was impossible to guess -

The sharp snap of a lightning spell, followed by a faint whimper of pain, came from behind one of the farthest doors. All three of them picked up their pace, half running to the door. Two guards lay in front of the door; Minsc pushed them aside and shoved the door open, revealing a woman in an overwrought pink gown and a man in golden wizard's robes, standing over a girl.

The girl was shackled to the wall, from the look of it, the restraints on her wrists were all that kept her from crumpling to the floor. Her clothes were torn to shreds. Cuts and gashes littered her limbs. Her torso was a burnt and bloodied nightmare, covered in scorch marks and deep wounds; Irenicus would have been proud of this wizard's handiwork.

"Minsc is not caged now!" Minsc roared, and charged into the room. With a single stroke of his sword, he cut the wizard in half, and the woman barely had time for a single, half choked scream before she met the same fate. "No more evil wizards! No more!" Minsc bellowed, and repeatedly stabbed the wizard's corpse, putting enough force behind his blade to embed it deep into the dirt floor with each blow.

"By the gods," Sime murmured. Her face had turned ashen.

"Stay... stay back," Ember stammered. She wanted to rush in and tend the girl, ease the pain she knew she was in, but while Minsc was in this state, she couldn't be certain he would recognize even her as a friend.

Eventually, Minsc's rage calmed down, and he dropped to his knees, sobbing. Ember ran to the girl, casting her first healing spells almost before she reached her. There was a frightening amount of blood on the floor, and the girl drifted in and out of consciousness. Ember worked as fast as she could, weaving soothing cantrips and minor regenerative spells in with her healing spells, trying not to let herself take in the full extent of the girl's injuries all at once. Sime approached and started to work on the shackles with her lockpicks; before long, the girl's hands were freed.

"Claire?" Sime asked in a wavering voice. The girl nodded faintly.

"I think she can be moved now," Ember said, leaning back. She'd done what she could for the girl, and all her bodily wounds were closed; time and care was needed for what remained. "Minsc, would you carry her?"

Minsc nodded, wiped his face with his hands, and gently picked Claire up from the dirty and bloodied floor.

Upstairs, they were met by the cook, the girl from the kitchen, and the young man who'd let them into the festhall. The younger people gasped at the sight of Claire; the cook merely sighed. "May all the hells claim Galvena's soul," she said. "It is done, then?"

"It is," Ember said.

The cook's expression softened. "You have my sincerest thanks," she said. "Come, let us leave this place."

The young man scurried off into a nearby chamber, and returned with a cloak which he and Minsc wrapped around Claire, who was shivering. The girl from the kitchen knocked on a door; three other girls emerged and looked around fearfully. "Is it true?" one of them asked. "She is gone?"

"Yes. We are free of her," the cook said. "Quickly, now."

The cook led the small group through the kitchen and scullery and into a small back yard. A single guard was posted there; when he approached them, the cook struck his head with a large wooden ladle, knocking him out cold. The small group hurried to the far end of the yard, where a locked and barred gate separated them from a back alley. Minsc kicked the gate open.

They were free.

-.-.-

"Claire!"

Captain Golin ran down the gangplank of his ship to meet the small group. He went straight to Minsc and clutched Claire's hand.

"Captain Golin?" Claire asked. "Is that you?"

"You're safe now, Claire," he said reassuringly.

"And... Sanik?"

The captain bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"I... She told me he was dead. I didn't want to believe it." Claire burst into tears. "Why did she have to..?"

"She was cruel and wicked, and knew nothing about the goodness of goodness," Minsc said somberly. "Minsc and Boo are very sorry, little one."

"We are in your debt," Captain Golin said quietly as Minsc handed Claire over to two sailors, who carried her aboard. "Is there anything that we can do to repay you? If Sanik was still alive he would offer you his life."

"Well, as you see, she was not the only one we claimed from the festhall," Sime said, gesturing at the cook and the courtesans. "If you could help them off this island, too..."

"We can pay!" the kitchen girl cried, producing a coin purse from somewhere within her skimpy outfit. "And Ellie's the best cook you'd ever find!"

Captain Golin laughed. "Ah, lass, don't worry about that; there's only six of you, and my ship can carry you easily enough. But," he added, looking at the cook, "I'd always be happy to benefit from the skills of a master of the kitchen!" The cook said nothing, but a hint of a proud smile touched her eyes. It lingered there as she gathered the courtesans around her and led them aboard the ship, much like a hen leading her brood of chicks.

The captain and Sime exchanged a few quiet words, then he approached Ember and shook her hand. "I wish you luck, friend. I'm sorry to say I have no idea how you might approach the asylum, but be careful. I've heard even more screams than usual from there lately."

Ember paled. "Thank you for your warning," she said, and forced a smile. "Fair winds to you."

All three were quiet as they walked back to the Vulgar Monkey. "Golin will be back in a tenday, and he's offered to take us back to Athkatla then," Sime said eventually.

"That is good," Ember said distractedly.

"When was Minsc caged?"

The abrupt question wrenched Ember's heart. "He..." She bit her lip. "What that wizard did to Claire... Irenicus did to me and Imoen," she said stiffly. "Minsc was unable to help us."

"I am sorry," Sime murmured.

"What is our next move?" Ember asked, eager to change the topic.

"Getting Desharik to have us committed would certainly get us inside, but being locked up with the inmates doesn't really appeal to me," Sime grinned. "That leaves us with Perth, the Cowled Wizard liaison to the town. He is seemingly free to come and go as he wants, and it is known that he's long since given up the rigid discipline they adhere to back in Athkatla. We just might be able to... ah... 'convince' him to let us inside."

"A bribe, you mean."

"If we're lucky, yes."

"Woe be the next wizard that tries to stand between Minsc and his witch," Minsc grumbled. "The glove is off, and the fist of righteousness is getting impatient! But, Boo tells me that even Cowled Wizards are friendlier when it is morning than when it is night..." He sighed heavily.

"As always, Boo has the right of it," Ember said, and squeezed her friend's hand. "We'll get some rest, and in the morning we'll all go talk with this Perth. Agreed?"

Minsc nodded sagely. "And then we will get little Imoen back, and all will be well. Yes, Minsc agrees."

-.-.-

 _"All will be well."_

Minsc's words ran through Ember's mind as she looked out through the window hatch. With her room facing towards the back of the inn, the hatch offered an excellent view of Spellhold. Through the mist, it appeared as a dark, forbidding mass of sharp angles and thick walls, and as far as she could tell, there wasn't a single window in the entire building.

She wanted Minsc to be right, his irrepressible optimism to be justified, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it. Bodhi and her vampires were here on the island. Imoen was still locked up in the same facilities as their tormentor; in facilities where there were more screams as of late. The gypsy woman they'd met near Trademeet had seen a vision of Imoen screaming. Was Imoen screaming now?

 _"We shall persevere,"_ Anomen had told her.

They would. She had to.

Feeling a chill despite the warmth of her room, she wrapped her arms around herself. What she really wanted was to have Anomen's arms around her, and to actually hear his voice rather than just have it echo in her mind. She could wake him, could she not? She toyed with the tantalizing notion; even as exhausted as he was, he wouldn't be angry with her, and she knew she'd feel a lot better if she did talk with him, even if only for a couple minutes.

She closed the window hatch. She wouldn't disturb his sleep; there was comfort enough in just knowing that she could, she told herself. She lay down on her bed and listened to the rain drumming against the roof and walls of the inn.

 _Please,_ she pleaded to no one in particular, _don't let me be too late._


	58. Chapter 129: Spellhold

**Chapter 129: Spellhold**

Perth the Adept lived in a large stucco house outside town, halfway up the hill towards Spellhold. The house was in better upkeep than most of the other buildings on the island, but the garden in front of it showed signs of recent neglect.

"I do not like this," Mazzy said. "Regardless of his reputation, this Cowled Wizard may well prove as unreasonable as his counterparts."

"But he is our best chance, no?" Yoshimo said. "Worry not; I am certain all will be as it should."

Ember looked at the wizard's home, and wished she could share Yoshimo's confidence. "Let's get this over with," she said.

Sime knocked on the door; there was no response. She twisted the door handle and it opened, creaking softly. "Hello?" she called into the house.

A grey-haired man in mottled green wizard's robes tottered towards the doorway. "Is it time once again for the experiments?" he asked. His voice sounded vaguely slurred, almost as if drunk. "I await your instruction, warden."

"I wonder if we might have a moment of your time?" Sime asked, a friendly smile plastered across her face. "We seek information."

"A moment? No, all the moments are together. All together and with another. I have no moments." The wizard peered at Sime. "You are... you are in the company... with Ember."

Ember froze.

"The likenesses of who to recognize... have been given to me... in my head," Perth continued, looking at each member of the group in turn. "...Ember? Ember?" His gaze fell upon her. "Ember! If the subject is encountered do not hesitate to test her limits! These are valuable parameters for study!"

"No one will be testing anyone's limits while Yoshimo is involved!" Yoshimo cried, drawing his katana.

"Yoshimo... inconsequential. To be dealt with as is convenient," the wizard muttered. "Test of limits. Yes, test of limits!"

Ember ducked just in time to avoid being struck by a scorching ray of flames. Her companions charged at the wizard, led by a furious Minsc, but in the next instant, there were four Perths where there had been one, and at least two of them were about to cast new spells. A crippling spell struck Sime, and she fell over, screaming in agony.

"Hah!" Edwin cried; he'd managed to dispel one of Perth's decoys. In response, one of the remaining wizards hurled a globe of fire at Edwin. It exploded as it touched him, knocking him to the ground and setting his robes alight; he quickly rolled around to put the flames out. Almost simultaneously, a mind control spell struck Mazzy. She shrugged it off, but the bolt of acid that followed it left a trail of welts down her arm.

"To me!" Anomen shouted, charging at one of the wizards. "Here is the true one!"

Perth was well warded, and fought back with mental attacks and quick bursts of lightning, but with half the group converging on him, his defenses were soon broken. The wizard shouted in despair, and one of his remaining copies cast a spell -

A thick, acrid fog descended on the group and the wizard alike. Its touch seared eyes and skin and burned lungs; gasping and choking, Ember and her companions scrambled to get out of the deadly cloud, those who could walk dragging those who could not. Perth did the same, tottering forwards on unsteady feet, but he only made it a few steps before succumbing to the fog. His copies vanished, undone by their creator's death.

Ember struggled to breathe. Her throat and lungs felt like they were on fire, and every breath she took only made it worse. Pressing her hands to her chest, she wordlessly willed herself to be healed; the fire of her gift flowed through her lungs, immediately easing her pain. Beside her, Anomen was racked by a vicious coughing fit. She reached out to touch his throat and said a spell of healing. "Thank you," he wheezed through bloodstained lips, and as soon as he was well enough to speak his incantations, they both set about healing the others.

"That was... interesting," Sime muttered, looking at Perth's body. "I have never seen anyone commit suicide in such a fashion before."

"The fool was not thinking for himself," Edwin said, picking nervously at the scorched trim on his robe. "A stronger mind dominated his."

"Irenicus would talk like that," Ember said tonelessly. She remembered mercifully few details from her time in captivity - most of it had been lost in a haze of pain - but one thing she had not forgotten was the terms Irenicus had used to describe what he did to her. "Bodhi's not the only one who knows I'm here. He knows, too."

"So it would seem," Anomen said. "Thus, we shall proceed with the utmost caution."

"I... I can't ask you to do this! I'm leading you straight into a trap!"

"You need not ask," Mazzy said. "Your sister is in peril, and even more so if we falter now."

"But -"

"No, my friend, I will brook no objections," Mazzy said firmly. "Have we not faced a dragon together, and lived? We will find a way."

-.-.-

Armed with a wardstone they'd found in Perth's home, the group made their way towards Spellhold. The only path up the cliffs was steep and rocky, and meandered through a cluster of ruined houses; whether they were destroyed by a sudden disaster or just the passing of time, Ember couldn't tell. Everything was eerily quiet. There were no birds or insects to be heard, and the still, hazy air seemed to muffle even the sound of their boots against the gravel.

Ember wanted to turn back. She'd rather face a beholder again - no, a group of beholders - than walk into what she did not doubt was Irenicus's new lair; only the thought of Imoen kept her going onwards. Anomen walked by her side, holding her hand; his expression was calm, almost confident, but something in his eyes told her he feared what lay ahead just as much as she did.

They approached the large, dark, windowless fortress that was Spellhold. No guards were posted outside the building, and no sentries monitored the path that led to it, but somehow, their absence made Ember even more uneasy. Were they being watched through magical means, or were those awaiting her inside simply too confident to care?

"Well, here we are," Sime muttered. "Needless to say, we will not be using the main door."

"How about over there?" Yoshimo suggested, pointing at a small, plain door off to the side. Whether it was the servants' entrance or just a door for delivering supplies, it seemed innocuous enough, and although it was magically sealed, it opened easily enough once Edwin had pressed Perth's wardstone against it. Yoshimo carefully pushed the door open, revealing a large, dark chamber that contained rows of storage bins, most of which appeared to hold various equipment. Sime and Yoshimo quickly surveyed the chamber.

"This way," Sime said in a hushed tone, and led the group through the storage chamber to another door, then down a dusty corridor. In the distance, they could hear moans and screams, but it was impossible to tell which direction the sounds came from. Moving quickly and quietly the group climbed a staircase and turned down yet another corridor, reaching the end of it just as a Cowled Wizard, carrying a slate and a piece of chalk, entered through a side door.

In an instant, Mazzy had her bow trained on the Cowled Wizard. "Go no further," she warned him.

The Cowled Wizard regarded the group with a puzzled air. "I trust you have good reason to be here?" he asked. Even though he appeared to be at least sixty, and moved with the hunched-over stiffness that came with an old and ill-used body, his voice was soft and bright, like that of a youth. There was a slight bewilderedness in his tone, but he didn't seem alarmed, or even anxious.

Sime stepped forward. "As good a reason as any. We seek the release of one of your inmates," she started, but was interrupted by Minsc.

"We are here to free Imoen!" the giant ranger bellowed. "Where is she?!"

"Please, such language is uncalled for," the Cowled Wizard said. "This is not a prison, but an institution of healing and learning."

"How is it not a prison when she was taken here against her will?" Ember cried.

"It was done for her own safety. The incident she was involved with was violent and distressing, and she needed help."

Why was the Cowled Wizard behaving so calmly? Was everything as it should be in the asylum, after all? No, it couldn't be, not with Perth being ensorcelled like that. **Something** had to be wrong!

"What of Irenicus?" she asked.

The Cowled Wizard shook his head. "That one did not do as well as was hoped. There were great expectations of his mental recovery until recently, when he caused a severe disturbance that affected most of our institution. He has been relocated to the deepest basements since then, far from our other patients. Your Imoen, on the other hand, has made excellent progress. She is in good health, and if you will permit me, I will direct you to her."

Was it a trap? Could they risk refusing his aid? Could they risk letting him out of their sight?

"Lead on," she said coldly.

"Very well." The Cowled Wizard headed down the corridor, walking with a stiff, shuffling gait. "This way."

Their weapons held ready, the group followed the Cowled Wizard through the asylum to a room with several heavy doors. The screams and moans were far louder in this room, and increased further in volume when the Cowled Wizard entered. He slowly shuffled towards one of the doors, pulled a heavy keychain out from his robes, and unlocked the door.

"Here is the one you seek," the Cowled Wizard said. "She is quite well, considering the circumstances."

Imoen stood in the middle of the room, slowly rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself. Her face was almost as pale as the rough white gown she was wearing, and her eyes looked glazed. Her expression was utterly blank.

Ember stared numbly at her sister.

Too late.

They were too late.

"Imoen!" Minsc cried, and ran towards her.

"Wh-who... who is that?" Imoen asked, taking a step backwards. There was a brittle edge to her voice. "Keep back. Keep back!"

Minsc halted. "Has little Imoen forgotten Minsc and Boo?" he asked confusedly.

"Who is Imoen? I don't know that name. I don't know that name! She's not here!" Imoen's face contorted with anger. "Get away from me! I'll... I'll kill you! I'll rip your eyes from your filthy faces! Do not tempt my wrath! Do not..." Her shoulders sagged, and her face became an emotionless mask again. "I... she's not here. I do not know that... name."

"What have you done to her?!" Edwin shouted, horrified.

"She does not seem willing to respond right now. Her consciousness comes and goes," the Cowled Wizard said evenly. "It is fortunate you arrived when you did."

"Fortunate?!" Mazzy asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. Fortunate for **me**. I am quite through with her for the moment," the Cowled Wizard said, and turned towards Ember. "It is you that I am after." He straightened himself, revealing his true height, and let his disguise fade away from his features.

Irenicus.

Roaring with fury and wildly brandishing his sword, Minsc moved to strike Irenicus down. The mage raised his hand, and Minsc froze in place, unable to take another step.

"You are intent on revenge or justice, or whatever," Irenicus said in the cold voice Ember recalled all too well, "I care not. You can do nothing I do not wish."

He lowered his hand, and darkness took them.


	59. Chapter 130: Breach

**Chapter 130: Breach**

When Ember regained consciousness, she was alone. She was alone, and she was trapped within a giant glass jar.

She'd seen similar jars before. She'd seen them in Irenicus's lair in Athkatla. They'd been filled with fluid, and had contained a variety of tormented creatures.

His experiments.

 _Don't panic,_ she admonished herself. _Don't you dare panic!_

She ran her fingertips over the walls of the jar. The glass was perfectly smooth, with no traces of any kind of door or hatchway. The jar was open at the very top, but the opening was completely blocked by a large contraption of some sort, and even if it weren't, she couldn't jump high enough to reach it. She struck the glass with her hands. It was thick and strong, and chimed with a deep, hollow sound when she struck it. She couldn't break it.

Looking around, she saw that the jar she was in was standing in the middle of a very large chamber. At least a dozen other jars like her own stood lined up along the walls; each of them held another trapped person. Some of them were beating their hands against the glass and shouting in fury, while others sat hunched in their glass prisons, crying in despair. She didn't recognize any of them.

Where were her friends? Where was Imoen?

A door opened, and all the other prisoners abruptly fell silent as Bodhi walked into the chamber. "So, the godchild has awakened," she purred, smiling cruelly at Ember. "I hope you are ready."

"Ready for what?"

"It's a surprise," Bodhi said, and slowly ran her fingers over one of the other glass jars in a mockery of a caress. The person within the jar cringed away from her in panic. "Oh yes, such a delicious surprise!"

Irenicus entered. He walked up to Ember's glass jar and peered in at her, his face just as cold and impassive as she remembered it. "I fear I have had an advantage over you," he said. "I have planned your coming from the start. It could be no other way."

A third figure appeared in the doorway. It was Yoshimo.

"I knew you would seek Imoen, and so the path was difficult, but not impossible. All designed to test your potential," Irenicus continued. Ember barely registered his words; her attention was fixed on Yoshimo, who walked into the room with not even the slightest pretense at stealth, subterfuge, or even aggression. His expression was as stony as Irenicus's.

He was not there to rescue her.

"Had you known of Yoshimo, things might have been a little different, of course."

She stared at Yoshimo. "What have you done?" she asked weakly.

"A bit of sleight of hand, and a spell component goes into a soup or some other dish. Undetectable, and nothing more than a seasoning until my casting," Irenicus answered. "A fine way to retrieve you unharmed - not that your safety is of any concern any longer."

"I did not spend so much time in her company just to have her killed," Yoshimo said. "That could have been done a dozen times over."

Yoshimo, who had befriended them so long ago with his charm and wit. Yoshimo, who had talked much of his exploits but never truly spoken of himself. Yoshimo, who was a large part of the reason they had gotten this far at all.

"Traitor!" she roared, her eyes flooding with angry tears.

"No traitor, Ember. He has proven exceptionally loyal through all of this," Irenicus said. "Loyal to me. "

"Why?" she asked Yoshimo. "Why did you do this to us? How could you?!"

"There are circumstances that you are not aware of," Yoshimo said coldly.

"What could possibly justify -"

"It is quite simple, actually," Irenicus said. "He believes you killed his sister."

Ember stared at Irenicus. "And would that be true, or just some fabrication you fed him?"

"What does it matter? After all, your life ends today."

Ember slammed her fists against the glass. "Release me! I will kill you, I swear it!"

"Yes, I believe that you would. I can't blame you, really, not when I wish the death of others for similar reasons. A pity one of us must be denied." Irenicus stepped back, and gestured around the chamber they were in. "Do you see the Shadow Thieves in the other glass chambers? They are the fruits of Bodhi's guild war, and their deaths shall force the divine soul from you."

Her... **soul**?

"Yoshimo!" she screamed. "It's not too late! Help me!"

"Oh, but it is too late, Child of Bhaal, and he cannot help you. I've ensured it, and you will soon be beyond it all anyway."

Irenicus pointed at one of the other jars and spoke a short incantation. The man inside the jar died; his death tore through Ember, the force of it seeming to tug and wrench at the very core of her being. She cried out in agony.

"Don't be afraid. I suspect this will be mercifully quick," Irenicus said, and killed another man. The jolt of murderous energy was stronger this time, and to her horror, Ember felt her essence welcome it even as pain wracked her body. Her blood... her blood was drawn to murder like flies to honey, and -

A third person, a woman, died. Another man. Another...

-.-.-

She was in the Candlekeep of her nightmares, a barren, lifeless mockery of her old home. She stood in the library grounds, with closed gates behind her.

In the distance, something laughed; a cruel, harsh sound, reminiscent of rock grating against rock. The sound frightened her, yet drew her at the same time. She moved in the direction of the laugh, towards the spot by Alaundo's Fountain where the chanters would gather for their prophetic rituals.

The fountain was not there; a gaping hole into the void marked the spot where it ought to have been. Someone stood beside the hole. It was a tall figure, completely covered by a suit of spiked armour much like Sarevok's, and wielding a massive sword much like Sarevok's. It looked at her with eyes that burned with an unholy fire.

This was not Sarevok. What Sarevok had sought to emulate, this creature **was**.

"Fall to your knees! You can do no other!" the creature demanded, speaking in a voice from her nightmares.

No," she croaked, backing away.

"You refuse me?" the creature roared. "You may as well ask to live without blood, or deny you breathe air! I am of you and within you; I am what you should have been!"

"Never!"

She turned and ran; the creature gave chase. Its gait was slow and lumbering, and she easily outpaced it, reaching the gates well ahead of it. She tugged at the gates; they did not budge. The bars of the gates were fused together, and the lower edge had merged with the black, dusty ground.

She could not escape that way.

She could not escape.

"Don't despair," a voice whispered in her mind. "Wait... and we can win..."

"Imoen?"

"Shhhh... before the shadows return to me. I have seen what is to come," Imoen's voice murmured. "One alone cannot fight... Together we must battle your instinct. Alone you would fall, whether you win or lose, but in my sight... we can defeat it..."

"What must I do?!"

"Within... you must go within... lead the creature to me, and we shall fight it together. Together... he does not expect us together..." Imoen's voice faded, becoming little more than a sigh. "Come to me... it is your only chance... and my last..."

She ran to the main entrance of the library and pushed the doors to open them. Neither of them responded any more than the outer gates had. Frantically, she pushed harder, pushed with every fiber of her being -

"This path leads to the core..." The words came as a soft whisper, emanating from the door. "Only through sacrifice can you achieve such insight. Do you give of yourself that you will know yourself? Do you let go of what you are, that you might see from a distance?"

"I will do what I must!" she cried. An odd weakness came over her, and the doors slowly creaked open.

"You shall know more of yourself through what you have lost," the doors whispered. "Pass as you should, and do not fear what comes."

Breathing heavily, she stumbled into the main hall of the library. Imoen stood there, looking agitated.

"We don't have much time," Imoen said. "I know how to weaken the beast... I can make it vulnerable... but you must fight it! We must stay together, or all is lost!"

Behind them, the library doors creaked, groaned, and finally shattered. The creature had entered the library.

"It comes," Imoen hissed. "Now... you must act now!"

She drew her scimitar and moved towards the creature. It slashed at her with its greatsword; she narrowly ducked the blow and struck at its shoulder, cutting through its armour as easily as if she were slicing through butter. The creature roared with fury and struck at her again, hitting her shield squarely in the middle.

"I am your instinct, yet you deny me!" it roared, and slashed wildly at her, narrowly missing her head. "Fight me within your own mind! I should devour you! How do you stand?!" Its fiery eyes narrowed. "I sense... your soul... it has taken form to guide from within! You are strange among your kin! But..." The creature laughed. "It will not help again!"

"Something is wrong," Imoen moaned, trembling in agony; she almost seemed translucent, and glowed with a faint golden light. "I... no... NO!"

Imoen vanished.

A shock surged through her, and she fell to her knees. Far away, at the very back of her mind, something was screaming.

"You are empty inside!" the creature gloated. "There is nothing within... but the instinct!"

The creature's blade tore through her, and the world was no more.

-.-.-

"Well! You are a strong one indeed! You resisted beyond all reason! Almost a pity you are dead on the inside."

"Do you think she can even hear you?"

"Does it matter whether or not she does, Bodhi? Should it concern me?"

Silence, then laughter. "No."

"I have drained her of all that made her special. She is nothing now. All that matters is that the curse that was wrought against us has ended."

"And our revenge will be all the sweeter for it."

"So it shall. Remove this nothing, Bodhi, and Imoen as well. We are restored at their expense and need them no longer."

"As you would have it, my brother."


	60. Chapter 131: The Maze

**Chapter 131: The Maze**

Several hours after Anomen and his remaining companions awoke in a small and dank holding cell, something rumbled overhead. A hatch opened, and Ember and Imoen were thrown into the cell with them. Neither woman gave a sound, even when their bodies impacted roughly with the floor, and whereas Imoen moved to sit upright, Ember lay still where she had fell.

Aghast, Anomen hurried to Ember's side. He touched her, called her name, but she did not respond to him. Other than her knuckles being bloodied and bruised, she bore no visible injuries, but as she lay there on the floor, staring fixedly at nothing, she seemed more like a discarded puppet than a person.

"What... what have they done?!" he cried.

"They've taken our souls," Imoen replied, her voice dull. "Bodhi has mine. Irenicus has hers."

His heart seemed to stop in his chest. "Impossible!" he shouted, even as Minsc and Edwin voiced similar protests. How could such a thing be? It could not be!

Stone ground loudly against stone.

One of the walls slid open, revealing a vast, dimly lit chamber. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," a sultry voice rang out to them; Bodhi's voice.

Ember moved. She pulled herself up, got to her feet, and, moving stiffly, walked towards the opening. Imoen went with her; Anomen followed suit, as did the others.

"Ah, there you are," Bodhi exclaimed. The foul vampire was standing on a walkway high above them, smiling. "It is such a pity, really, that your lives are coming to an end. You have proven resilient beyond all expectation. It is... appealing to me."

"Spare us your words and do as you have been ordered, like a good girl," Ember said. Her voice was flat, utterly devoid of its usual melody.

"Irenicus does indeed wish you dead, but I am not his lapdog and you are now subject to **my** will," Bodhi snarled. "Your abilities have piqued my interest, and since you are to die, I would have you do it in an entertaining fashion."

"We won't perform for you," Imoen said.

"Oh, but you will. You have no choice. You will run my gauntlet, and you will do so on the slim chance that it will make a difference." Bodhi raised her hand and gestured down at the chamber that lay ahead of them; it was an oddly shaped room that held a number of doors and four different sets of stairs, as well as several walkways that seemed to lead nowhere. A jumbled pile of what appeared to be the group's gear lay on the middle of the floor. "This place is the darkest part of the asylum and its history: a test of clarity for its prisoners, built by a director that delighted in dissecting the mind," Bodhi said. "It is a masterpiece of madness, one that you will come to know intimately as you seek its exit. I give you time to run, after which I will come to feed."

"I give you a reason as well, to make the hunt more desperate," the vampire continued. "What I give you is the very slight chance that you may yet foil Irenicus. His preparations here will take time, you see... just about as long as my hunt. Run my gauntlet and your lives end... or you are free."

Smiling coldly, the vampire left the walkway, and their sight.

-.-.-

Even in his wildest dreams, Anomen could never have imagined a place such as the maze that lay beneath Spellhold. True to Bodhi's description of it as a masterpiece of madness, the maze was a bewildering tangle of false corridors, dead ends, deadly traps, and locked doors. Some of those locks and traps succumbed to Sime's skills, but most of them were only undone by solving puzzles of intellect and wit, and as often as not, solving a puzzle would trigger yet another trap. Hideous beasts roamed the maze, either wandering aimlessly or locked in their place as part of the tests; their natures spanning the full gamut from a group of kobolds worshipping a glowing crystal in a large, rocky chamber to a crazed vampire guarding a small library - a library where every book and tome dealt with the subject of insanity. Indeed, it was a wonder that none of them had lost their lives or minds yet!

 _And yet, we are far from unscathed._ He glanced at Ember and her sister, Imoen, walking side by side, their faces stony, blank, inscrutable. Soulless.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he had been forced to accept that Imoen spoke the truth about their condition, and every time he looked at Ember, that truth was painfully reconfirmed. She was the same as always in face and form, and yet, she was not the same person. Her inner light was extinguished, snuffed out like some paltry candle - nay, worse; stolen from her, to be possessed by that monster!

Hot anger flared through him. Irenicus had snatched away his beloved's very soul, and Yoshimo had aided him! How could that scoundrel conspire to commit such an atrocity?! How **dare** he! By all the gods, he would -

Beside him, Ember's step faltered. She looked flushed and confused, and her legs buckled; only Imoen's support kept her from falling. Rushing to to their aid, he held Ember firmly around the waist and draped one of her arms around his neck for further stability, unburdening her sister in the process. She felt frail to the touch, almost like a suspended bubble that might burst at any instant, and her pulse was a frenetic flutter beneath her too pale skin. Carefully, he eased her down to sit on the floor and urged her to lower her head. She sat like that for a brief while, trembling and breathing deeply; then, to his relief, she seemed to come to her senses again.

"What happened? Is little Ember sick?" Minsc asked. "Boo must know; he is absolutely fretting!"

"It's nothing," Ember said tonelessly. "Just a little dizzy. That's all."

"I felt weak after the ritual, too," Imoen said.

"It's already passed. Let's continue."

"Are you certain, my lady?" Anomen asked. "We may rest if you -"

"I'm fine!" she snapped. "Stop fussing about me!"

"As... as you wish," he said, taken aback by her angry vehemence, and helped her get back on her feet.

-.-.-

As they continued onwards, weaving an erratic path through the tricks and traps and vagaries of the maze, Anomen watched Ember with ever increasing concern. She was dull and irritable, and attacked every creature they encountered with an alarming ferocity. She showed clear signs of exhaustion as well as of an impending fever, but she refused to pause for even a brief moment's rest, ignoring Minsc's urging as well as his own in her singleminded focus on the task at hand.

Imoen, dressed in Ember's and Sime's spare clothes and armed with a bow she had procured from a fallen kobold, seemed to fare a little better. She was mostly indifferent to her surroundings, and seemed to regard everything with an unnerving calmness, but there were none of the raving and violent outbursts that had marked their first meeting with her, and she did not share her sister's apparent feverishness. Still, it was plain to see that she was growing quite fatigued, and it was a plea on her behalf that finally made Ember consent to stop and rest for a brief while.

Once Sime had made sure there were no traps waiting for them, the group settled down for a brief respite in one of the larger chambers, a room that had been guarded by a clay golem that now lay shattered on the floor. Anomen and Mazzy positioned themselves by the exit, that they might keep watch even as they rested. Minsc offered Ember and Imoen a drink from the waterskin he carried; Imoen accepted.

Looking somewhat nervous, Edwin approached Imoen. "They told me you lost your spellbook. I brought you a new one. (And something to put in it.)" He handed her a small leatherbound book and a thick bundle of scrolls, meticulously rolled up. "All your favourites are there, as well as several new ones. Nothing you shouldn't be able to handle," he said, not quite able to mask the pride in his voice.

"Thank you," Imoen said, displaying no more emotion than she had shown when she was reintroduced to Edwin in his new, feminine form. For all her response, the wizard might as well have presented her with a log of firewood in the heat of summer.

"I... er... you're welcome," the wizard said stiffly, and hurried away from her. His eyes glittered with moisture and anger.

Feeling a measure of sympathy for the wounded wizard, Anomen returned his gaze to Ember, who was impatiently pacing back and forth. Even now, she was unable or unwilling to let herself rest.

He did not know what to do.

-.-.-

Bruised and weary after fighting their way through a large nest of trolls, the group was standing around a minotaur statue that was missing its horns - one of which they had found in a poisoned well some time earlier - when Bodhi returned. Once again, the vampire was standing on a walkway far above them, well out of their reach. One of the vampires that had attacked them on the docks was with her.

"Here, mousey mousey, the hunt draws to a close here and now," Bodhi purred. "I know I'm early, but I just couldn't bear to see you leave."

Ember's shoulders sagged. "I expected you to come," she said. "You'd be a fool to let me reach Irenicus."

Bodhi grinned. "You have been amusing, but the game is over. Come, let our paths cross in blood!"

The two vampires jumped down from the walkway, clearly eager for combat, and landed right in front of Ember. She stood still, trembling with fatigue, not even raising her weapon -

In an instant, everything changed.

Ember was gone; where she had stood, wearing her armour, was a creature found only in the darkest of nightmares. Its features were those of a corpse, its body riddled with lacerations that weeped black ichor and its face frozen in a vicious, feral grimace. The dark holes that were its eyes burned with an unholy fire, and there was nothing even remotely human about the guttural roar that emanated from its throat. Skeletal hands seized the vampire that escorted Bodhi and tore its arm off as easily as if it were made of rotten cloth.

"What is this?!" Bodhi cried in surprise and terror. "Child of Bhaal, what have you become?!"

"The Slayer," Imoen murmured, staring at the horrific creature with rapt fascination. "She's manifested the Slayer."

Abject fear etched across her features, Bodhi backed away from the creature that once was Ember. She transformed into a bat while the Slayer mercilessly attacked her minion, and as the creature tore the other vampire's body apart, Bodhi fled the maze.

Its original foes gone, the Slayer turned and charged towards Imoen. Evil radiated from it like heat from a furnace.

"Fall back!" Anomen shouted. Offering Helm a prayer for strength, he raised his shield and charged towards the creature, intent on keeping it from the others. Dimly, he registered that Minsc and Edwin dragged Imoen away just as Helm's divine power filled him.

The creature's horrible eyes fixed on him. They spoke of his death. _Helm help me, this is not her,_ he told himself, and forced himself to stand steady.

The first blow from the creature almost felled him. The second slashed across his face, tearing through his helmet and across his forehead and right eye; blood obscured his vision. Panic surged through him, but then he felt a surety of purpose come over him - Mazzy's doing? - along with the more familiar sensation of one of Edwin's haste spells. Narrowly avoiding the creature's lethal claws, he struck its arm near the elbow, deflecting a blow that would surely have maimed him, if not worse. The creature roared and lunged unsteadily at him; he bashed its belly with his shield, sending Ember tumbling into a nearby wall.

He sagged to his knees, scarcely able to believe his eyes. She was back.

"What... just happened?" Ember asked weakly. There was an air of confusion about her, and she was clutching her arm. The arm he had just struck, fighting for his very life...

"You... you are a beast within," he stammered. She glanced at him, a touch of fear and anger mingling with bewilderment in her eyes, then looked away.

"You manifested the Slayer," Imoen said, peering out from the doorway where she and the others had taken shelter.

"The what?" Ember asked, struggling in vain to stand up.

"One of the avatar forms of Bhaal. I've seen descriptions of it before," Imoen said. Minsc, looking truly frightened, approached Ember and lifted her up in his arms. She did not protest.

"Let me see your face," Mazzy said beside Anomen. He let her remove the mangled remains of his helmet while Minsc carried Ember away. What would have happened, had her transformation not ended?

"It is not as bad as it looks," Mazzy said, daubing at his forehead with a wet piece of cloth. "It is just a flesh wound; she did not harm your eye."

"It," he said numbly. "That... was not her."

"Indeed, it was not," Mazzy said quietly. "Here, let me hold the edges in place, and you can heal it."

He did as she instructed.

"Will you manage?" Mazzy asked, eyeing him with concern.

He closed his eyes. "I will do what I must," he said. "Please, let us speak no more of this until we can face those responsible."

She nodded understandingly. "Whatever you think is best," she said.

-.-.-

The final hurdle was a room full of ghosts that seemed astonished that anyone had reached their part of the maze at all. They challenged the group with logical puzzles that were quickly answered by Edwin, who dismissed them as children's rhymes that were almost beneath his dignity. Once the ghosts were satisfied, they faded away, and a corridor opened in one of the walls, leading back to the relative sanity of the rest of the asylum.

Their quarry was no longer there.


	61. Chapter 132: Yoshimo

**Chapter 132: Yoshimo**

The asylum was in uproar. Screams and hysterical laughter echoed down corridors where the air smelled faintly of smoke and brimstone. Most of the doors in the building had been destroyed, either by way of brute force or with explosive magics, and the few that were still undamaged stood wide open. Several people dressed in white robes roamed aimlessly around while a handful of Cowled Wizards tried to corral them; other white-robed inmates were less docile, and seemed to be gleefully doing their best to bring the entire fortress of Spellhold down upon their own heads.

Yoshimo ignored them all.

He passed swiftly through the chaos, followed by a cadre of fledgling vampires; all that remained of the Shadow Thieves that Bodhi had ensnared or captured. The vampire's blood enchantments had bound their minds to her as surely as if she were still with them, and unless they were destroyed, they would blindly perform her commands until the world ended. Only one mercy had been granted them: while the former thieves had no more choice about their actions than Yoshimo did, they were at least spared the shame of being aware of what they were doing. For that, he almost envied them.

It had all seemed so simple last winter, when he had tracked his wayward sister all the way to the Sword Coast only to learn of her demise. Irenicus had been there, offering him the opportunity to avenge her death, and in his anger and grief, he'd seized it. He had not objected to Irenicus's demand that he be bound by a Geas; it had seemed such a trifling matter, then. A mere formality to assure his loyalty, yes?

Uncertainty had come later, especially after he was introduced to the cruel and capricious Bodhi, but he had never let himself doubt his decision, not even on the day when he finally met his sister's killers. Weary, bloodied, and half out of their minds as they were, he'd refused to acknowledge exactly how badly they'd suffered at his employer's hands; instead, he'd kept his sister's face in his mind and her portrait near his heart as he left Irenicus's lair with them. They were just a pair of Bhaalspawn and their berserker minion, he'd told himself, and they were cursed whether Irenicus willed it or not. Death was within them, death was their doom, and his sister's blood **was** on their hands.

Or so he had believed.

Whether or not Ember truly was responsible for the death of his sister, it no longer mattered. Every observation he'd made of Ember's temperamental streak or the Red Wizard's callousness had become meaningless when he saw what had been done to Imoen in Spellhold, and every excuse and justification he'd told himself over the past few months had shattered as he watched Irenicus force Ember's soul from her. They could have murdered his sister a thousand times over, and it would not have lessened the disgrace of what he had done to them! Nothing could!

He could still see his sister's face in his mind, but now he saw it with a look he remembered from their childhood; it was the look she'd given him whenever he'd misbehaved or otherwise disappointed her, and it cut his heart as deeply now as it had then. His honour was forfeit, and instead of restoring hers, he had stained it further even as he destroyed his own. He had lost everything; all that was left was the Geas, which would bind him for the rest of his days.

He headed down the stairs that led to Irenicus's experiment chamber. Moving in unison, the fledglings followed him.

-.-.-

Compared to the upper levels of the asylum, the experiment chamber was astoundingly quiet. The scent of recent death hung in the air. Wordlessly, the fledgling vampires did as they had been instructed, and spread out to hide among the glass jars that still held the corpses of their fellows. Yoshimo went to the middle of the chamber and positioned himself in front of the apparatus that Irenicus had used to extract Ember's soul. This was where they were bound to return if they did break free, and this was where he would wait for them.

Yoshimo smiled bitterly. Bodhi had been quite pleased with herself when she'd sent the group into the maze to die in an amusing fashion, but knowing what he knew of those he had betrayed, Yoshimo had had little doubt that they would surpass the vampire's expectations. He was more than proven right when Bodhi returned to them with a fearful look in her eyes, and her face had held not even a hint of her usual chilling smile as she spoke of the new trick Ember had at her disposal. Would he, too, get to see the Slayer today?

He waited in silence, and in the end, they came.

The infamous maze had taken its toll on his former companions. He saw it in the blood and ichor that covered their armour, and he saw it in their faces. The Helmite was missing his helmet, and a freshly healed wound, still vividly red, snaked across the right side of his face. Edwin's robes were stained to a degree far beyond what the Red Wizard normally tolerated. Minsc, as brave a soul as could be found anywhere, looked fearful. Imoen was dressed in regular clothes instead of her inmate's robe, and her face was expressionless, as was Ember's.

Minsc visibly stiffened when he caught sight of Yoshimo. "You!" he roared.

"Traitor!" Anomen cried. "You will die for your part in this!"

"You, Yoshimo, have earned more pain than you thought possible," Edwin growled.

"Bring your wrath to bear if you are so sure," Yoshimo said. "I will not bother with excuses. I cannot fight his spells."

"What do you mean?" Mazzy asked; ever the voice of reason. But he could not tell her what he meant.

"Do you... do you know what happens," he tried, struggling to get the words out, "if you try to defy a... a..."

"A Geas," Edwin said. "(Imbecile! Cretin! Witless fool!)"

"Where is Irenicus?" Ember asked.

"There is a portal beneath this chamber. It leads into the Underdark. They..." He could say no more; he was a little surprised the Geas had not prevented him from mentioning the portal at all. He looked at Ember. "I am left to finish your physical shell."

"Is that so," she said.

The group drew closer to him. Around them, the fledgling vampires emerged from their hiding places and fanned out through the room; Sime said something very unladylike when they appeared.

"It is quite simple," Yoshimo said, closing his left hand around the small piece of ivory that rested in his pocket. "I can wither and die for failing to kill you, or I can give both of us the chance to leave this world honourably." He drew his katana. "No redemptions, no second chances... let us get this over with! Ilmater take my heart, I have no choice!"

He charged at Ember, who raised blade and shield to greet him.

Drained and soulless though she was, her fighting skills were exactly as they had been, and she easily deflected his first blows, just as he'd known she would. A vicious grin spread across his face. He'd rarely trusted himself to spar with her, but he had kept his eyes open, and he knew how she fought. Drawing upon that knowledge, he followed the failed blows with a feint towards her shoulder, and when she moved to blocked it, he twisted his katana downwards in a graceful arc that intersected with her side. She hissed sharply as the blade grazed her flesh, and something darker than his conscience flickered to life deep within her eyes.

Her blade flashed through the air. He parried the blow, and moved to strike her legs. She quickly stepped backwards, and slashed at his sword arm; only his well-honed reflexes saved him from losing the hand. He circled around her and struck at her shield arm, then towards her head when the blow was deflected. She moved to strike his neck, and he almost laughed; while she did possess a certain grace in combat, she was not quite up to his standards, and her movements betrayed that the attack was a feint, much like the one he'd surprised her with. He waited until the last possible moment, then moved to counter the low blow that was to follow -

A slight, unexpected movement, and her blade bit deep into his neck and shoulder.

Pain shot through Yoshimo, followed by a strange, lightheaded numbness. Was she more skilled than he had believed? Had his judgement lapsed at the wrong moment? Could he have meant - no. It didn't matter; what was done was done. He looked at her, and smiled. _Well done, my fearless leader._

He slumped to the ground before her.

He was free.

-.-.-

Sime pried open Yoshimo's fist, which was clenched shut even in death, and extracted a small piece of ivory from between his fingers. It was a portrait, showing a young Kara-Turan woman with long, dark hair and a serene expression on her face; the paint was starting to wear off, especially near the edges where the ivory had been held most often.

"Look, Boo!" Minsc exclaimed at the sight of the portrait. "That's little Tamoko, isn't it?"

"It is," Ember said.

"I thought it might have been her," Imoen said.

"She was alive when we parted," Ember said. "Irenicus deceived him."

"(To the great surprise of absolutely nobody,)" Edwin muttered.

Sime placed the portrait in a small leather pouch that hung from her belt. "There's an Ilmaterin shrine in the slums back in Athkatla. I'll take the portrait there, and pray for them both." She glanced around the room, which was littered with the remains of her former colleagues, both dead and undead; the group had used crude stakes, fashioned from a broken table, to permanently dispose of the fallen fledglings. "I'll have a lot of praying to do," she said.

"I am sorry for your loss," Mazzy said. "Would that this hadn't been necessary."

"It could have been worse," Sime said with a weak smile. "None of my closer friends are here... and I recognize several of those who'd joined Bodhi's guild. In a way, they were already my enemies." She swallowed. "I never imagined it'd end like this. Such cruelty... I cannot fathom it."

"No decent person could, " Mazzy said.

They found the portal in a small room at the bottom of a narrow, winding staircase. It lay directly beneath Irenicus's experiment chamber, just as Yoshimo had said, and a large stone circle, engraved with runes that glowed with recent magic, was the only thing in the room. Muttering and grumbling, Edwin approached the stone circle and set to work reopening the portal.

"You are sure of this?" Sime asked as motes of light appeared in the stone circle.

"We must reclaim what was stolen from them," Anomen said firmly. "Any other course of action is unthinkable."

"Yoshimo may have lied," Sime pointed out.

"Nay," Anomen said, shaking his head. "I believe not."

A fluid sheet of light filled the stone circle. The wizard took a step back. "The portal is open," he announced.

"Time to go," Mazzy murmured, and turned to Sime. "You are certain you can make it out and back to town?"

"My road will be far smoother than yours," Sime grinned. "Yes, I am certain."

A faint smile creased Mazzy's weary face. "Take care of yourself, Sime."

"You too."

One by one, Mazzy and her companions stepped through the portal and vanished from sight.


	62. Chapter 133: Adalon

**Chapter 133: Adalon**

The other end of the portal was located in an elaborately tiled chamber, as large and grand as its counterpart had been small and plain, and lit by dense clusters of glowing fungi. Edwin registered these facts, noted the presence of a number of dead dwarves (duergar, if one wished to be accurate) that lay scattered around the portal, and threw up.

"(Incompetence, as always,)" he muttered when his stomach was done rebelling, and wiped his mouth with a scrap of cloth that he'd kept ready for that purpose. "(If I ever get my hands on the utter imbecile who designed these spells and thought they were even remotely adequate...)"

"Are you ill, wizard?" Mazzy asked. She and Imoen were watching him, proving once more that there was no end to the humiliations the universe wished to lavish upon him.

"I am in perfect health!"

"You are sensitive to teleportation magics," Imoen observed. Her face showed a disturbing lack of concern for his plight; even now, it remained a blank slate.

He sighed. "Yes, I am," he grumbled, in no mood to come up with a snappy retort about how she was stating the obvious (which would have been wasted on her in her condition, anyway).

Some distance away, Anomen was examining one of the dead bodies. "Magic was used against these deep dwarves," the Helmite stated, "and some bear the bite marks of a vampire. They cannot have been dead but half a day."

"Do any still live?" Mazzy asked.

"Not a one."

"Look!" Minsc bellowed from across the room, "Boo has found the exit!" The lumbering Rasheman stood beside a large, open door that seemed to be decorated with a subtle blend of unpleasant woodcarvings and the occasional smear of fresh blood. Beyond the doorway was darkness. A lot of darkness.

"The Underdark, I presume," Edwin said.

"We must proceed with caution," Mazzy said. "There are enemies all around."

Caution? (Bah!) If caution had truly been a matter of concern to them, they would never have come this way at all, Edwin observed to himself as he closed the portal behind them.

-.-.-

The Underdark was no mere cave or dungeon; it was an entire world unto itself, buried deep beneath the surface. Lit only by the occasional patch of faintly glowing fungi, its caverns spanned farther than the eye could see (even with Imoen's spells to boost their vision) and were populated by a wide variety of unpleasant beings. It was a dangerous place, not to be navigated lightly, and as such, Edwin was more than content to leave the navigation of it to Minsc, Mazzy and Anomen. His own time was far better spent on thinking, and during the first two days of moving away from the portal (avoiding the locals when they could, and destroying them when they had to), a number of pressing concerns occupied his mind.

What would they do to Irenicus and Bodhi once they caught up with them? How would they extract the stolen souls; would killing the usurpers be enough, or would they have to repeat the soul-draining ritual in reverse? How were they to beat them, for that matter? Would they even be able to find them?

How long did Imoen have before it'd be too late?

All of those questions were still frustratingly unresolved when the group came to a sudden halt in a passageway. Edwin instantly snapped to attention, expecting an ambush, but there were no obvious enemies in sight. Instead, a dozen or so small, pasty-faced deep gnomes - svirfneblin, if he remembered the term correctly (which he almost certainly did) - blocked the path ahead of them.

"(Ridiculous,)" Edwin sighed. Did the diminutive creatures seriously mean to challenge them? (And with no evident weapons except their pathetic mining picks?)

"Surfacers," one of the svirfneblin, an old, decrepit looking thing, said. "Rare to see. Why are you here?"

"We seek two other surfacers; they may have passed this way but recently," Anomen said. "Would you have any knowledge of them?"

"Why seek them?" the svirfneblin asked.

"They have stolen something invaluable from two of our number."

"Enemies?"

The Helmite's face darkened with anger. "Aye, indeed."

The svirfneblin turned and said something in his own tongue, and the entire group of deep gnomes broke out in excited gibberish.

"You come with us!" the old svirfneblin exclaimed, addressing Edwin and his group once again. "You must speak with Lady Adalon!"

"Wait!" Edwin protested as the svirfneblins moved to surround them. "Who is this Lady Adalon?"

"It is she who knows. Your enemies are hers. She will tell you. Come!"

-.-.-

Lady Adalon was a silver dragon.

She was so tall that her head almost scraped the ceiling of her cavern, which was quite literally lit up by her presence; a white light, almost like that of the moon, radiated from her. Her silver scales seemed to bathe in that light, glittering like precious gems, and every movement she made was accented by the crystalline sounds of scale against scale, creating a quiet yet potent melody that surrounded her as much as her light did, and almost seemed to both complement and complete her. Distantly wondering what a bard would make of the scene, Edwin stood still and just gazed at her. He had to admit the sight of her might have rendered him a little awestruck; here, he was in the presence of true power. (He'd be a fool not to acknowledge that!)

"Welcome to my lair," Adalon said. Her voice was deep, like a giant bell, and reverberated through her cavern. "I have watched your progress with great interest."

"Great lady, you honour us with your words," Anomen said.

The dragon scoffed. "Perhaps I do, but flattery is not why I have had you brought before me," she said.

"The svirfneblin said you know of Irenicus," Ember said.

"I do," the dragon said, "and I can see what he has taken from you. Do as I command, and you may aid both me and yourselves."

"What do you require of us, my lady?" Mazzy asked.

"Listen: I am Adalon, the Guardian," the dragon said. "My charge is the elven ruins above, an ancient temple that marks the gateway to the Underdark. It is the place where elves of dark hearts first descended, truly separating from elvenkind; as a consequence, the drow keep the outpost of Ust Natha here as a symbol, one that is fought over regularly. I have governed the hostilities and seen peace for decades at a time, but now, the balance has shifted. I can no longer honour my commitment." The dragon's eyes suddenly flashed with anger. "The two you seek, Bodhi and Jon Irenicus, have made a deal with the drow for their own safe passage, and offered them a way to tip the scales against their elven enemies."

"And they just strolled on by?" Edwin asked incredulously. The dragon shot him an angry glance; he decided to choose his next words more carefully. "Er... pardon me, madam, but you are no svirfneblin. Did you not sense their... despotic nature?"

"I cannot extend my influence," the dragon said coldly. "Irenicus bargained with my most prized possessions. He violated my lair and stole from me. They have taken my eggs."

"Unfortunate," Edwin said. "I assume they threaten to destroy them should you venture out?"

"I have been informed that to move from my lair is to cause the destruction of my eggs. It is the final straw in a long list of atrocities I have been witness to."

"Boo shakes with disbelief!" Minsc bellowed. "Such a crime will not go unanswered!"

"Irenicus and Bodhi have already left the Underdark for the surface world. Retrieve my eggs, and I will clear the way for you to one of the surface exits, one that emerges close to where Irenicus plots his next move. Deny me, and you will find the drow an insurmountable obstacle; your cause will be as lost as my offspring."

"And yet you ask us to face an entire drow city to find your eggs," Ember said. "How is that less insurmountable?"

"I do not ask you to simply assault the place," the dragon said. "You will take the identity of a group of drow I dispatched recently, a party from Ched Nasad that was destined for Ust Natha. I will transform you, and you will be able to pass among the drow with ease. They will not see through the fiction I create."

"I question the logic of this," Edwin said. "We do not know the ways of the drow (nor, more importantly, their language)."

The dragon looked sharply at him. He looked away (he couldn't help it!). "You reek of Netherese magics, little man," the dragon said.

"Er... What if I do?"

"Was the result as intended?"

Edwin's face burned with embarrassment. (Mocked by a dragon! Could it get any more humiliating?!)

"Much can be accomplished with a well-crafted spell," Adalon said "The illusion will be complete, and will last as long as it needs to. My magic will will give you knowledge of the language of the drow; your speech will be heard as though you have spoken their dark tongue all your life. I will also give you some basic understanding of their culture. For the rest, improvise. The drow are in the turmoil of war at the moment, and will overlook much. They will not turn away extra hands."

"(It still sounds like a very foolish idea,)" Edwin grumbled quietly.

"There is no other way open to you. You cannot continue your pursuit without my aid, and to give it now would mean the lives of my offspring. I cannot aid you unless they are safe."

"We will do as you ask," Mazzy said.

Adalon's radiance seemed to brighten. "A wise decision," she said, and pointed towards the cavern wall. A section of it opened, revealing a very well stocked armoury. "You must prepare yourselves. Remove your armour, and I will outfit you in adamantite, as you should be. Pass yourselves off as fighters; magecraft is rare amongst drow women, and would raise suspicion. As for your priests, only women may serve Lolth, and the priestesses would not be deceived in such matters."

"I would not call upon Helm to aid in subterfuge, even had I the option," Anomen said as he stacked his gear in a neat pile in an alcove.

"The presence of your hamster would also be questioned," Adalon said, looking at Minsc. "It must remain with me."

The giant oaf gave the dragon a horrified look. (Was he going to ruin everything?) "Where Minsc goes, Boo must follow!" he cried.

"If you will not be parted, you must also remain here."

Minsc looked at Ember and Imoen. "I cannot leave my witches," he muttered.

"Boo will be safe with Lady Adalon," Mazzy said. "And he can watch over our gear while we are gone, can he not?"

Minsc nodded slowly. "Boo says he does not mind. He says he will be brave."

"You will present yourself as a group from the city of Ched Nasad, of the house Zauduis. Once you have entered the city, seek out house Despana; my eggs were given to the matron of that house," the dragon said. "Do not attempt to leave the city through their main gate to the surface. Doing that will dispel my illusion. I am sorry to enforce this, but I must protect my interests."

"We understand," Mazzy said. "We will do what we can to retrieve your young."

"I thank you," Adalon said.

"We are ready," Anomen said. "Let the casting commence."


	63. Chapter 134: Entering Society

**Chapter 134: Entering Society**

The city of Ust Natha had been built over a deep chasm. Resting upon a series of elegant yet sturdily constructed platforms and walkways that spanned the immeasurable depths below, the entire city resembled nothing so much as an immense spider's web. At its heart rested the spider itself: a temple of immense proportions, dedicated to the spider goddess Lolth, which easily outshone the rest of the city in both opulence and utter depravity.

In a tavern on the outskirts of the city, far from the temple, Anomen sat on a bench and cleaned his shield. Made from adamantium, it was lighter and stronger than steel; yet, if sunlight were to fall upon it, it would crumble to dust. Unlike the shields he was accustomed to using, this one was shaped like a section of dragon hide and liberally covered with etchings and nooks in which the residues of battle might linger, and the hands with which he worked upon it were small and slender, covered with skin the colour of night. Even so, the routines of maintenance were the same as ever, and alien though his hands appeared, they remembered the task well. In the strange world he found himself in, the familiarity of the chore came as a much-needed comfort.

Their quest had brought them to an evil place, one where they must act the eager supplicants if they were to pass muster; the slightest false move would bring disaster down upon them. The society was one of fierce matriarchy, and ruled according to the tenets of Lolth, the city's foul patron goddess. The strong destroyed the weak, those who belonged to a House stood over those who did not, and, barring slaves, the lowest drow female commanded respect from even the highest ranking male. As foreigners from the city of Ched Nasad, the entire group was scorned; as males, Minsc and himself were doubly scorned. For once, Edwin's transformation proved a boon; even though the wizard could not use magic lest he reveal abilities that were considered unnatural in a drow female, he was not forced to rein in his temper or his tongue in an act of false yet utter submissiveness, which Anomen deemed would have been a more difficult task.

Thankfully, Lady Adalon had been proven correct about the shortage of hands in Ust Natha. While the group was greeted with open suspicion upon their arrival, they did not receive more than a cursory interrogation; once that was done, the group was placed at the disposal of Imrae, a Handmaiden of Lolth. She was as vicious as the spider goddess she served, and openly disdainful towards the newcomers; she spoke nary a sentence without threatening to have them all flogged or sold as slaves should they displease her. As the humble foreigners they were, they submitted to her will, performing the menial tasks she assigned to them without protest or complaint as they sought a way to approach House Despana.

Ember - nay, Veldrin, as the dragon had renamed her - served as the leader of their group. In his heart, Anomen questioned the wisdom of her acting in that capacity in her current condition, but there was little to be done about the matter; she had immediately gravitated towards that role, and spoke with the drow with an unsettling ease, even about the most blood-churning topics. Then again, he reminded himself, was it truly so odd that a child of Murder should understand such a depraved society as that of the drow?

Suppressing a shudder, he pushed those unpleasant thoughts from his mind and focused his attention on the grime that still marred his gear.

He was almost done cleaning the shield when he noticed Minsc hurrying towards him. Even in drow form, the giant ranger was quite distinctive, standing half a head taller than most other drow males. Somehow, he still managed to avoid drawing too much attention to himself; his natural exuberance had been left behind in Adalon's lair with his beloved hamster, and he had shown far greater prowess in acting than Anomen had expected, taking admirably to the role of a subservient drow male.

"You must come!" Minsc said in a low voice that did not wholly mask his agitation.

"What is amiss?" Anomen asked, forcing himself to refrain from leaping up at his companion's words.

"It's little Veldrin! She is in the pits!"

Much like the Copper Coronet under Lehtinan's rule, the tavern sported enclosed fighting pits, where drow warriors might test their mettle against captured beasts. Murals of their battles decorated the interior of the tavern. "She is fighting the monsters?" Anomen asked fearfully, his gaze drifting unbidden towards a mural that depicted a lone drow fighting an umber hulk, a mural that had required copious amounts of scarlet pigment in its rendition...

"She has done that already," Minsc said unhappily. "Oh, come!"

Alarmed, Anomen followed Minsc to the section of the tavern that housed the fighting pits. A fair crowd was gathered there, making enough noise that he could barely hear the voice of the announcer.

"With the permission of our most distinguished females, and the interest of our most hardy males," the announcer cried, "might I draw your attentions to the pit at the fore! The pride of the males of the First House, master of blades Lasaonar, has accepted the challenge. He will now enter the arena and face our ambitious newcomer, Veldrin of Ched Nasad! Watch as they place their lives in the pit and their fates in their blades!"

An excited cheer went up from the crowd; several of the drow called the name of Lasaonar, but an almost equal number called for Veldrin, and the cheers grew louder still as the combatants entered the pit. Lasaonar was a strong, proud-looking male, wearing what Anomen had come to recognize as the insignia of one of the highest ranking families in the city and wielding a blade that glowed with a fiery enchantment. Ember stood opposite him, armed with the adamantite shield and scimitar Adalon had given her. The adamantite chainmail she wore was smeared with blood, and her mane of drow-white hair had come unbound. She wore no helmet.

Anomen stared at her in horror. What was she **doing**?!

"FIGHT!"

At the cry from the announcer, the two combatants began to circle each other, slowly at first, then more rapidly, moving closer to each other with every step. Ember made contact first, aiming a savage slash at his leg that was easily deflected but nonetheless pleased the crowd, a crowd that contained Imoen, standing at the very edge of the pit and watching the fight with the same abject fascination as when she'd first beheld the Slayer; the girl's fascinated gaze reflected the bloodlust that radiated from Ember's eyes and expression as she sought to kill her opponent. Their blades flashed faster and faster, drawing blood here and being deflected there, and slowly, steadily, the drow male was forced to retreat from a foe who never flinched, not even when his fiery blade scorched her arm, and the crowd around them went wild, shouting for blood. A forest of waving arms obscured Anomen's view; he could barely hear the clash of blades over the din of the nigh-frenzied spectators, then a deep male voice cried out in despair, "HOLD!"

The crowd settled down slightly, enabling Anomen to see Lasaonar kneeling on the sandy floor of the pit, disarmed and bleeding heavily from a deep gash just above his hip. Ember stood in front of him with her blade raised to strike and a feral expression on her face, a predator poised and eager to rip her victim to shreds.

"I yield," Lasaonar cried. "My sword is yours, I no longer deserve it. I... I yield."

With almost palpable reluctance, Ember stepped away from her fallen foe. She ignored the sword that lay in the sand, and walked to the edge of the pit.

"There are no further challengers," the announcer cried. "The glory is yours, Veldrin! The Spider Queen smiles on you this day!"

The spectators began to disperse, many of them talking excitedly about the fresh foreign talent and how Lasaonar's weakness shamed his matron. As soon as they were able to move without risking a collision with - and thus an offense against - one of the many drow females that had watched the spectacle, Anomen and Minsc hurried towards the pit gates. There, an attendant was administering to Ember's injuries while Lasaonar was being helped out of the pit by three members of his House.

"Greetings, Nasadrans," the announcer said as Anomen and Minsc approached. "You are Veldrin's males, are you not? Your mistress has done very well today. I did not think I would see such surprising victories from a new face."

"Lasaonar was weak," Ember said. "He did not desire the victory enough."

"As you clearly did," the announcer said. "Ah, brave female, I can only hope your prowess will grace my pit some other day!"

"Come, allow us to attend you, mistress," Anomen said.

"Very well," Ember said, and followed him and Minsc away from the announcer. Anomen led her to a quieter corner and pulled a healing potion from the satchel he carried; his hands trembled as he handed her the small vial. She drank most of its contents and poured the remaining few drops on the long, half-cauterized wound that now graced her upper arm.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?!" Anomen hissed, unable to hold back any longer. "To enter into the fighting pits..."

"I won."

"And if you had not?"

Ember merely shrugged.

"You could have been killed!"

"The pit fights are for entertainment. It is perfectly possible to surrender, as I believe you saw."

"You would never have yielded," he said harshly. "I saw the manner in which you fought, and the expression on your face. How entertained would your audience have been, I wonder, had they seen... had you become..."

"That will never happen again."

"How can you know that?"

"Others are coming," Minsc warned them.

Edwin and Imoen were approaching, accompanied by a statuesque drow woman who was dressed in ornate adamantium chain and the finest of spider silks. The woman went straight to Ember, who stood up and gave her a brief, deferential bow.

"A most impressive performance, Veldrin," the woman said. "Not only did you best that impudent male, Lasaonar, but you humiliated him as well. The First House will remember this day."

"Did I not say as much?" Ember asked.

"You did. Your sisters here," the woman gestured at Edwin and Imoen, "have told me more about the combined skills of your group. Very promising, for a group of foreigners - if their words were true."

"My sisters do not exaggerate. They have no need to."

"We shall find out soon enough," the woman said. "I have already spoken with Handmaiden Imrae; you will no longer answer to her. House Despana claims you."

 _Despana?_ Anomen glanced at Edwin, who was regarding the proceedings with an exceedingly smug expression.

"We are honoured to serve you," Ember said.

"As you should be. I have no use for you today; tomorrow morning, await me outside the Female Fighter's Society. We will speak more then."

Ember bowed her head to the woman. "As you wish, Mistress."

"Until then," the woman said, and left.

As soon as the woman was out of sight, Ember turned to Anomen. "My actions in the pit drew her attention. Edwin recognized her, and he and Imoen spoke with her while I fought. She challenged me to beat Lasaonar, so that she'd truly see what I was capable of. You just witnessed the result of my victory," she said. "Our new mistress is Phaere Despana, eldest daughter of Matron Mother Ardulace. Do you still think I have lost my senses?"

He did not reply.


	64. Chapter 135: Matters of Blood

**Chapter 135: Matters of Blood**

The beholder lay dead on the very edge of the platform, deflated and collapsed, no longer anything but a shapeless bag of flesh. Mazzy sighed with relief. They had completed the latest of the extermination tasks that Phaere Despana seemed fond of assigning to them, and they had managed to do so without any of the group sustaining serious injuries or becoming petrified. Careful preparation, and the fact that this particular beholder was young and inexperienced, had seen them through.

"Well done," Phaere said; she had watched the battle from a safe distance. "Not many in Ust Natha would have dealt with an Eye Tyrant as efficiently as you just did."

"This little one was hardly a difficult kill," Edwin scoffed, gesturing at the fallen creature with a dispelling wand which he'd used to great effect during the fight.

"Is that so?" Phaere said. She almost sounded amused, but the coldness that lingered in her eyes belied that. "Nonetheless, this kill pleases me. The rest of the day is yours. Do not touch the carcass; there will be acolytes coming to deal with it."

"Yes, Mistress," Mazzy said.

As the group prepared to leave the platform, three acolytes wearing the Despana insignia arrived. Pretending to adjust her sword belt, Mazzy carefully glanced at the acolytes. They kneeled around the dead beholder, and one of them held a vial - were they gathering its blood?

Why?

The acolytes soon completed their task, and departed. Keeping a careful distance, Mazzy followed them.

Moving with a feigned purposefulness, she trailed the acolytes back to the Despana Household. They passed through the main entrance; she passed through a smaller doorway, her own insignia granting her entrance, and hurried to the main hallway where she hoped to see the acolytes again. She was rewarded with the sight of them standing outside the Matron Mother's quarters. They exchanged a few words with Ardulace's personal guards, and handed over the beholder blood they'd collected. One of the guards took the blood inside. The acolytes went on their way.

Mazzy turned down a side corridor. Moving as one who had a destination in mind, no one took notice of her; that would almost certainly change if she, a foreigner and newcomer to the House, were to halt, turn back, or in any way display any unusual interest in her surroundings. With her goal accomplished, she had to keep up appearances, and pick a different path out of the Household.

The path she had chosen led her past the kitchens, where a lieutenant of the House was scolding a group of kitchen slaves, and into the cellars. She went to the supply rooms, requested and received a batch of healing potions - her chosen excuse for being in the Household at this hour - and continued on her way, walking as close to the treasury as she dared, keeping eyes and ears open.

"It is an insult," a voice said, not far away.

"An insult that you are not as tireless as a golem?" another voice said. Mazzy slowed down.

"Watch your tongue," the first voice snapped.

"If you would rather exchange roles with the golems, and let them take your place at the ritual, I am sure that can be arranged," the second voice said drily. "Or do you feel that is less important than guarding the chamber?"

"In this case, I would consider them tasks of equal importance."

"But their prestige is not."

"That is not the point! I have been trusted with her finest treasures before; why should this -"

Two women, both wearing senior guard tabards, rounded the corner ahead of Mazzy. They saw her, and their conversation halted abruptly, their body language changing in an instant from that of a shared conversation to that of guarded distrust.

"You, Nasadran!" the owner of the first voice cried. "What are you doing here?"

Mazzy held up the satchel of healing potions. "Fetching supplies," she said.

"And where do you think you are taking them? The steps to the main hall are that way."

"I mean to pass through the side doorway," Mazzy said defiantly.

The owner of the second voice laughed. "You're still going the wrong way," she said, and pointed at the side corridor Mazzy had just passed. "That is the way you wish to go."

"I see," Mazzy said, trying to sound chagrined at her mistake. "I thank you for your correction."

The guard laughed again. "With luck, you will find your way before your Mistress has you flogged."

Mazzy gave the guards a slight bow, and hurried towards the indicated corridor.

"Foreigners," the first voice said derisively behind her. "May darkness take them all."

-.-.-

A scant half hour later, Mazzy arrived at the tavern that served as their base. Once inside, she headed straight for one of the corners; as she expected, she found Anomen seated there, cleaning his armour with a zeal that would make any paladin proud. "That shield must surely be spotless by now," she said as she approached him.

He glanced at her, then looked down at the shield he was working on. "'Tis possible, I suppose," he said, and put it aside. She sat down beside him, marvelling once again at the strangeness of being able to look her companions in the eye without tilting her head; due to Adalon's magic, she was now slightly taller than Anomen.

"Where are the others?" she asked. In response, he glanced sullenly at the door that led to the fighting pits.

"I guessed as much," Mazzy sighed. If she were to pass through that door, she would find Ember in one of the pits, fighting anyone who wished to face her, Imoen on the stands as a most captivated part of her audience, and Minsc and Edwin standing behind Imoen, watching over them both with varying degrees of consternation. It was a scene had played out almost every night since they entered Phaere's service.

"Who am I to ask her to refrain from getting herself killed?" Anomen grumbled bitterly, and picked up his helmet, which appeared to have been cleaned already. Unable to find any further grime or blemishes on it, he set it down beside the shield. "I noticed your actions earlier," he said. "Did you learn aught of the beholder blood?"

"Only where they took it," she said. "It was handed over to Ardulace's personal guard."

"You were in the Despana Household, then. Did you perchance overhear any mention of a ritual?"

She gave him a surprised look. "Actually, I did," she said, and related what she had overheard from the senior guards. "How did you know?"

"Such potent blood is, as I understand it, a desirable component in certain dark rituals, and the Matron Mother is known to be a powerful priestess in her own right," he said. "Also, the tavern has had much to say about House Despana this eve. It is said that Matron Mother Ardulace is planning a feat even greater than that of immobilizing Adalon, something that will place her House above all others. Some claim it may even bring about the long-awaited victory over the surface elves - though it must be said that not that a single one of them knows anything about what the feat itself might entail."

"Troubling, all the same," she said. "Has there been any mention of the eggs?"

"None that I have heard."

"I wonder if they might not be the treasure the guards spoke of."

"The implication was that the treasure guarded by the golems is to be involved in the ritual, was it not?"

"It was," Mazzy said. "I imagine the eggs would hold even more power than the blood they took. But, if the Matron Mother harms the eggs, she will lose her hold over Adalon. Surely, she would not dare..."

"'Tis difficult to say. They have already aggrieved Adalon far beyond any point of redemption. The eggs must remain hostage, or they must find another means of keeping Adalon in check."

"Could a ritual destroy Adalon?"

"I do not see how. She is a creature of this plane, not to be dispelled or banished, and her kind is not easily cursed." Anomen shook his head. "We must learn more, of the eggs and this ritual both."

"The correct words in Phaere's ear might help, perhaps?"

"Only if chosen with the utmost care."

A loud cheer rang through the wall that separated the room from the fighting pit. Anomen's expression darkened.

"Yestereve," he said, "I spoke with one of the older storytellers about the Despana family. He told me much about them, and about Phaere in particular."

"Oh?"

"She was not always the pride of her House that she is now. Many years ago, when she was quite young, she was regarded as soft and sentimental; most unseemly qualities in any drow, and especially in one of her rank and birth."

"But of course," Mazzy said. Drow society was ruthlessness become art. There was no place in it - and no mercy - for any gentler leanings.

"The Matron Mother was greatly displeased by her eldest daughter's weakness, and matters only turned worse when Phaere took a lover. Instead of merely using him as her personal male, she held him in high esteem; to the point of actual affection, it was said. Enraged and humiliated, the Matron Mother had the Handmaidens take Phaere away. It is not known exactly what they did to her, but when she was returned to society, there was no longer any trace of such disgraceful emotions within her. All that remained of Phaere, the storyteller said, was her ambition."

"And what became of her lover?"

"He held favour in another House of great rank and was therefore allowed to live, on the condition that he never speak to Phaere again. However, about a year after these events he was revealed to be a worshipper of Eilistraee, the Moon Goddess. This cumulative insult was more than either House could tolerate, and he was executed. Phaere wholly supported the decision."

Mazzy shook her head. "How horrible," she murmured.

"The creature we serve is ruthless, even by drow standards," Anomen said, his voice harsh. "Veldrin is no more than a plaything to her, her performance in the pit a source of idle amusement. And the rest of us are mere tools."

The door to the fighting pit opened, and a number of drow streamed out, talking excitedly about the matches they had just watched. Veldrin's name was on many lips as the crowed passed the corner where Mazzy and Anomen were seated; it seemed that the foreigner with the remarkable bloodlust continued to impress the Ust Nathans.

"Would that we had never come to this accursed place," Anomen said quietly.

-.-.-

There was no mistaking the mood of Phaere Despana the next day. Anger was written across her features and in the way she carried herself, in the taut muscles that pulled her face into a grimace, in the look in her deep red eyes. Her Household slaves cowered when she entered the room. Ember stood firm, seemingly unaffected by their Mistress's mood.

"Yesterday, you bragged that the Eye Tyrant was a simple kill," Phaere said, glaring at Edwin. "I will put your words to the test, and may the Spider Queen feast on your carcasses if you fail me."

"What is your command, Mistress?" Ember asked.

"It seems the Eye Tyrant you killed yesterday was not potent enough for the Matron Mother's purposes and wishes," Phaere said, her voice dripping with disdain. "She has now chosen to inform me that she requires the blood of an Elder Orb."

 _Not potent enough._ Mazzy didn't dare look at her co-conspirator Anomen; even though their group did not seem to be the target of Phaere's ire, Mazzy did not want to risk provoking her even in the slightest way. She remained facing straight ahead, looking slightly down, and tried to appear as unphased as Ember even as her thoughts churned. _What kind of sinister purpose could the Matron Mother require it for, that the blood of that beholder was too weak?_

"The Eye Tyrants often roam the old lava tunnels to the southeast of the city," Phaere said. "Find one of their Elders and bring me its blood."

"Will the acolytes accompany -"

"No. I have spent too much time working on them, and will not risk wasting them on a failed mission. No, the work of your hands will have to be good enough for the Matron Mother." Phaere turned and snapped a command at a slave, who brought her a flask of crystal reinforced with adamantium threads. "You will fill this flask with blood. The Matron Mother has had it attuned to her requirements; if the blood within is suitable, the flask will begin to glow."

"As you wish, Mistress," Ember said.

Phaere thrust the flask into Ember's hands. "Go. Do not dare to return until you have what I want."


	65. Chapter 136: Artifice

**Chapter 136: Artifice**

There was no mistaking the area where the beholders dwelled. A large region southeast of Ust Natha was honeycombed by tunnels that had once held molten lava; now, many of those tunnels bore a coating of ropy slime, unpleasantly reminiscent of the lair of the Unseeing Eye in Athkatla, and like there, the slime was dotted with glowing globules, bolstering the dim light of the ever-present luminous fungi. Smaller, straighter tunnels, the work of gauths, formed connections between the larger lava channels and laced the entire structure together.

Peering out from behind a cluster of stalagmites, Mazzy spotted a solitary beholder moving towards them through one of the lava tunnels. It was large, and its hide was wrinkled with age; promising signs, both. She looked around, making sure that no other beholders or gauths were in sight, and raised her hand, signalling the others that a target was approaching. Their group had killed three other large, unescorted beholders in the two days they had spent hiding in the beholder tunnels, but the creatures had died to no avail; none of them had had blood potent enough for the Matron Mother's purposes. Mazzy could only hope this one would prove different.

Joining her comrades in their battle preparations, Mazzy uncorked and drank a series of potions, starting with the all-important potion of mirror eyes which would protect her from petrifaction - being turned into stone was an experience she did not care to ever repeat. She whispered a prayer to Arvoreen, then rose and stood with Anomen, Minsc, and Ember. Edwin and Imoen, free to act as the mages they were without raising drow suspicion, fell in line behind them.

Moving as one, they stepped out from behind a large boulder, entered the beholder's field of view, and charged. The beholder's glare struck Mazzy, slowing her movements; an instant later, a spell from Edwin hastened her. She slashed at the beholder, blinding one of its eyes just as a powerful volley of magical fire seared its skin. The blast was Imoen's work, and after what she had witnessed in the other beholder fights, Mazzy did not have to look at the girl to know that her otherwise dull expression had been replaced by the same ferocious bloodlust that marred Ember's face; Ember, who stood between Anomen and Minsc, seemed oblivious to everything but how fast and how thoroughly she could hack the beholder to pieces.

As with the previous three encounters, the beholder fell quicker than Mazzy would have expected. Ember dealt its carcass several more blows before finally stepping away from it. She breathed heavily, as if she had run up a mountain prior to the battle, and her lips were drawn back in a grimace halfway between laughter and a snarl. Minsc and Anomen approached her with slow, careful movements, almost as if they were cornering a wild animal and feared how it might react. Mazzy turned away; behind her, Imoen trembled with fatigue and spent rage, and Edwin's support, it seemed, was all that kept her on her feet.

"Just like last time," Mazzy sighed. Imoen might well come to life - so to speak - during combat, but after each battle, the girl retreated back into her apparent blank and numb state, and each time, she seemed a little more haggard and worn than before. Ember, too, for all the feral joy she seemingly took from killing the beholders, showed symptoms of weariness and unease that Mazzy had not seen in her in Ust Natha.

"She is merely overexerting herself," Edwin snapped, but Mazzy doubted that even he could believe his words. No, she had spoken of the matter with Anomen after their previous battle, and she found the young priest's suggestion far more likely.

The Bhaalspawns' blood was consuming them.

She fetched the Matron Mother's enchanted flask and went to the fallen beholder. They had no cause to attack these beholders in their home, and that they were compelled to do so galled her as much as the necessity of furthering the drow's schemes did; now, she worried that their companions might succumb before they ever got the chance to reclaim what was taken. Were they ultimately committing these foul acts for nothing, she wondered as she held the flask to the beholder's cooling flesh, catching some of the blood that seeped from its numerous wounds. Would Ember and Imoen have suffered less, if...

The enchanted flask, slowly filling with blood, was starting to glow.

-.-.-

Mazzy moved slowly up the steps to Phaere's quarters. Her hands clutched a nondescript bag of black cloth which served to disguise the enchanted flask, now brightly glowing, that held the beholder blood. She announced herself to Phaere's guard, and waited to be granted admittance.

This task had fallen to her due to the Bhaalspawns' fatigue; although the great Veldrin had returned in triumph to Ust Natha, both she and her sister were far too weary and agitated to be trusted with presenting the blood to their mistress. Anomen and Minsc, as males, could not appear before Phaere with authority; indeed, sending them with the precious prize would have been an insult. Edwin, outwardly a female, could have been an option, but for all his concern for Imoen's well-being, Mazzy could not yet bring herself to trust his motives, his decisions, and his sharp tongue. Those qualms had made it very easy to grant him his desire, which was to stay behind with the rest of the group and tend Imoen.

"Enter," the guard said brusquely, and stepped aside, allowing Mazzy to pass.

Phaere received her in a small chamber, sparsely furnished but with every wall draped in rich spider silk tapestries. "I expected Veldrin," the drow said sharply. Mazzy said nothing - mentioning Veldrin's condition would be a most unwise display of weakness in their group - and merely handed Phaere the cloth bag she carried. The drow's eyes lit up as she pulled the glowing vial from the bag.

"Excellent work!" Phaere cried, cradling the vial in her hands. "You have exceeded all my expectations, and done House Despana a great service!"

"May this blood bring you the glory you deserve, Mistress," Mazzy said.

Phaere laughed. "Perhaps it shall," she said, and looked at Mazzy. "Loyalty and skill such as yours is a valuable commodity, and will be rewarded. Return to your chambers; tell Veldrin she may expect me within the hour."

"Yes, Mistress." Mazzy gave her a deep bow and left the chamber, hurrying back to inform the others and prepare Ember for her guest.

-.-.-

By the time Phaere arrived at the group's quarters at the inn, Ember had been calmed down from her state of feral agitation, and seemed once again the cold, callous Veldrin that Phaere knew. If she did still fidget a little, and grasp unconsciously for the hilt of her blade every so often, they could only hope the drow would not notice, or care.

Two of Phaere's personal guards accompanied her; one of them inspected the chamber, while the other carried a large, heavy-looking sack, which she deposited next to Phaere once the room was pronounced safe. The guards then retreated, closing the doors behind them.

Mazzy watched and listened carefully while Phaere spoke with Ember in a secluded corner. Their conversation was in hushed tones; other than the occasional mention of House Despana, and of unimaginable rewards, she could not make out what the drow was speaking of. However, something in Phaere's uncommonly eager expression told Mazzy that whatever the drow had in mind, it was something quite different from the chores they had performed for her so far.

"Are you willing to do this?" Phaere asked in a slightly louder voice. "Think carefully on your answer."

Ember looked at the drow, her expression as cold as ever. "I have no qualms about betraying the Matron Mother," she said.

 _Indeed,_ Mazzy thought, _this is no ordinary task!_

"Good." Phaere beckoned the rest of the group to come closer. She looked at each of them in turn, then nodded with satisfaction. "They will follow you in this, I see," she said to Ember.

"How could they otherwise?"

"With a weak leader, things might well have been otherwise." Phaere laughed. "But not so with you, my Veldrin. I am pleased. Your loyalty shall be richly rewarded once I am the Matron Mother."

Ember bowed her head slightly to Phaere.

"You have heard, I am sure, of the blow that House Despana has dealt the Guardian - the silver dragon who guards the route back to the surface," Phaere said. "Most gloriously, we have acquired her eggs. Holding these eggs hostage has prevented the dragon from interfering with our latest strike, and now, the Matron Mother intends to use the eggs for an even better purpose."

 _This does not bode well,_ Mazzy thought uneasily.

"Matron intends to summon a demon of terrible power to aid us in our attack upon the surface elves. The blood you collected for me is a component in this ritual, to be used to draw the demon's attention and bring him before us," Phaere continued. "The eggs will serve as enticement to enlist its aid. Indeed, what demon could refuse such a prize?"

Mazzy's heart went cold in her chest. In their speculations, she and Anomen had touched upon the truth; a truth more horrible than they had dared imagine. Surely, all was lost...

"House Despana will have opened the way for the war and summoned its most powerful warrior. We shall become pre-eminent. But... there is no rule that states Ardulace must still be Matron Mother of such a powerful House." Phaere raised a hand, signalling to her private guards who stood waiting outside the chamber; one of them entered, carrying a large sack. At her mistress's command, she opened the sack, displaying a clutch of mottled brown eggs. They were each about the size of a human head, albeit more oblong in shape, and they seemed to glow with a faint silver light.

 _The eggs, here? Now?_ Mazzy gazed at the clutch in wonder and confusion. _It cannot be!_

"Convincing, are they not?" Phaere asked as the guard retreated. "They were made by one of the city's finest artificers, and have been enchanted to mimic the warmth and glow of true dragon eggs. They can only be told from the true eggs by these markings." She lifted one of the false eggs and showed them a set of four tiny yet distinct scratches, located on one of its ends. "You will go to the treasury and replace the dragon's eggs with these. You will then bring the real eggs to me. Matron will offer the fake eggs to the demon, and be killed; then, **I** will offer him the real eggs. The ritual will be completed, as planned, and I will have taken Ardulace's place as Matron Mother."

"Devious," Edwin said. "You will make an exceptional Matron Mother. How shall we breach the treasury?"

Phaere produced a small key, made from darkest adamantite, from a pouch. "This is a copy of the Matron Mother's key to the treasury. She does not know I have it," she said. "Use this to enter. Within, you will find two golems, guarding the eggs. They are instructed to attack any that approach, barring the Matron Mother herself, but they will not react to the opening of the door, and they cannot see through invisibility spells."

"A shocking oversight," Edwin remarked drily.

"Yet another detail the Matron Mother is not aware of," Phaere said. "An invisibility potion, bolstered by the silencing effects of a piwawfi cloak, should get you to the eggs; a steady hand should be able to make the exchange without alerting the golems. It should be no task for those who have survived the lair of the Eye Tyrants." Her face hardened. "If you should fail, know this: you will stand alone. You are foreigners, yet, and not to be trusted easily; if you are caught, I will make it plain that you infiltrated House Despana, seeking to steal its wealth. As your sponsor, I would be exposed to ridicule for being duped by strangers, and would thus be fully justified in extending your torment before your inevitable execution."

"It will not come to that," Ember said, accepting the key from Phaere. "Our path is clear."

"The ritual is scheduled for tomorrow," the drow said. "You have until morning."

Phaere left, leaving behind the treasury key, the sack of fake eggs, and the greatest gift of all: one single chance for the group to complete their true mission.


	66. Chapter 137: Illumination

**Chapter 137: Illumination**

The adamantite key turned smoothly in the lock. Mazzy tugged at the handles, and the doors swung obediently open.

"I will make Boo proud," Minsc murmured.

"(Yes, yes, make the hamster proud,)" Edwin muttered, and watched as Minsc stepped into the Despana treasury, moving with surprising grace for such a lumbering giant. Edwin had cast invisibility on Mazzy, Minsc, and himself before they ever touched the door, and unlike the six stone golems that stood guard within the treasury, all three had been enspelled by Imoen to see through the spell. To Edwin's eyes, Minsc was a blurred shadow, and the glowing orbs that illuminated the treasury seemed to shine through him in a vaguely disturbing fashion.

The golems, not noticing a thing, did not move; one could easily have mistaken them for a collection of cheap, tasteless statues. They would remain in that state unless Minsc blundered, such as by stumbling, breaking his invisibility spell, speaking, or committing any kind of similarly thoughtless act. Edwin himself stood prepared to renew Minsc's invisibility if it should show any signs of fading, and Minsc did carry with him three invisibility potions, but an abhorrent amount of eventualities were not covered at all! Anything was possible, and he could not bring himself to share Anomen's and Mazzy's faith in the giant (even if he had to admit he'd never have managed to be quite that silent himself. Nor would any of the others, for that matter, except perhaps Imoen, but not the way she was now, though... Begone, maddening thoughts!)

The eggs (five of them, all told) lay in a large basket at the far end of the chamber. Minsc stood beside it now, holding one of the fake eggs in his large hands. He touched one of the real eggs, held the forgery beside it, seemed to steady himself -

With a quick movement, he scooped the dragon egg up in one hand and dropped the fake egg in its spot. The golems remained still, and Minsc put the egg in a sturdy utility pouch, which he closed securely. Edwin indulged himself with a quiet sigh of relief.

A second display of deftness, and two eggs were secured. Edwin was just beginning to think that all might go according to plan when Mazzy raised her hand to alert him; she had heard something. She pushed the door to the treasury shut, locked it, and withdrew the key, then she and Edwin hurried around a corner, just as they had planned to do in this eventuality - if whoever she'd heard was headed their way and happened to detect them, it was far better to be found near a trove of spider silk than outside the Matron Mother's treasury.

Footsteps rang in the distance; at least two different sets, walking at a brisk pace across stone floors. They drew closer, steadily closer, then passed by and moved onwards.

"The kitchens," Mazzy murmured, and chuckled softly. They returned to the treasury door, and Mazzy opened it. How would the giant oaf have dealt with being locked up with the golems, Edwin wondered, and braced himself.

Minsc stood waiting by the doorway with a broad smile and five filled egg pouches. He stepped out of the chamber, and while Mazzy locked the door, Edwin inspected the eggs.

"They're all real, unmarked eggs; not a single mixup (which I must admit impresses me)," Edwin said, quite pleased that the giant had managed to do it all correctly on the first attempt. "Now, let us leave!"

They hurried to one of the building's lesser exits, where Anomen was waiting with Imoen and Ember. Imoen looked just as she had when they'd parted - no less tired and indifferent, but no worse either. Edwin chose to consider it a good sign.

"Well?" Anomen asked.

"We have them," Mazzy said, and helped Minsc distribute the egg pouches between them all. Edwin was a little surprised when he was handed a pouch, leaving Ember as the only one not responsible for a dragon egg. Was it that they did not want the great Veldrin to be seen carrying a menial utility pouch, or did Anomen and Mazzy really trust him over her? (And exactly what was it that troubled him the most about that notion?)

"Stand ready," the Helmite said. "The time has come for us to deviate from Phaere's commands."

-.-.-

The walk to the city gates felt like an eternity. They moved at a steady pace, neither loitering nor hurrying, no different than any of the slaves and underlings that still filled the streets. _(No, no different at all,)_ Edwin reminded himself as he watched their surroundings from deep within a cowled robe. **He** , of course, was prepared for the worst, and was ready and willing to summon a fireball at a moment's notice if need be.

But there didn't seem to be any need. Nobody acted against them, and nobody interfered with them. As far as Edwin could tell, they raised no attention beyond the obliging scurrying of the slaves that moved out of their path, and a few arrogant glances from a group of upstart males, loitering outside a tavern.

Could it really be this easy?

Edwin's heart raced unpleasantly as they approached the gates. He flexed his fingers in preparation for trouble, and followed Mazzy towards the gatekeepers. It wasn't that the halfling hadn't done well so far, but one false word, one moment of wavering confidence, and...

Despite the late hour, the guards had few questions as to the nature of the group's errand, and showed little interest in their excuse of being sent to procure some fresh Kuo-Toa meat for their mistress. The gates opened; a few steps, and they were through. They were outside the city.

They continued at a steady, brisk pace. Before Edwin knew it, they were out of sight of the gates, traversing one of the many canyons that surrounded Ust Natha; soon, they would be near Adalon's lair -

"And just where do you think you are going?"

Edwin froze.

Phaere Despana stood at the top of a low cliff the group had just passed. One of Phaere's personal guards appeared on the path below her, flinging aside a muting piwawfi cloak; other guards stood ahead of the group, beside them, all around them... as far as Edwin could tell, she had brought her entire cohort with her, and their group was outnumbered by at least three to one (and possibly quite a bit more). Three of Phaere's pet acolytes of Lolth appeared behind her.

Not good. Not good at all.

"You disappoint me, Veldrin. You had much promise; it surprises me to find out what a fool you actually are," Phaere snarled. "Did I not tell you foreigners are not to be trusted? Did you think I would not be watching you? That you would not be noticed, attempting to leave the city with my eggs?"

"Considering how far we did get before you caught up with us, it did seem a distinct possibility," Edwin snapped nervously. Around him, the others had drawn their weapons. How many of Phaere's guards could they hope to take down? Did Phaere know they had spellcasters in their number? Would that make any difference, one way or another?

"You got exactly as far as I let you. Tell me, Veldrin, did the First House hire you to discredit Despana? Or was it House Torval?"

"No," Ember replied, her voice a low growl. Edwin glanced at her and saw not the callous Veldrin of Ched Nasad, but the ravenous butcherer from the beholder caves, just barely keeping herself in check. There was a hungry gleam in her eyes that made Edwin suddenly wish he was far, far away.

"Do not think insolence will help you, filth!" Phaere growled. "My plans will come to fulfillment despite your attempted treachery. Your employers will not save you; none will know you have fallen here, or even that you ever retrieved the eggs."

"Perhaps it is you who will fall," Imoen said. The look on her face made Edwin's blood run cold.

"Hah! You were fools to come to Ust Natha," Phaere cried, oblivious and ignorant of anything but her own anger - including the silver dragon that was slowly approaching her from behind. "Wail in fear, for only death -"

Adalon roared.

-.-.-

Edwin surveyed the battlefield with satisfaction.

Phaere's corpse, riddled with frostburns, lay in a pile of slowly melting ice shards, and the bodies of her guards were scattered around her. One of the acolytes was also dead; the other two had fled at the sight of Adalon. A couple small patches of molten rock (Imoen's aim had been slightly off at times) were slowly cooling, fading from glowing red to glassy black as they did so. Ember stood crouched over a guard she'd eviscerated.

The skirmish had been a rout, just as he had expected all along.

(And, to make matters even better...)

"Ardulace does not know of this," Edwin said, feeling a smug grin spread across his face. "If she proceeds with her ritual (and she has no reason not to) I see a very displeased demon in her future."

"The acolytes might tell her about the fake eggs," Mazzy said.

"And be killed for their part in this display of incompetence?"

"The Matron Mother might appreciate her own survival more than that," Mazzy countered. "But they will do as Lolth bids them, I imagine."

"They would sacrifice my beautiful eggs!" Adalon growled. "No longer will I continue guarding a peace that does not exist - I have seen too much of their evil for that - but I will not leave quietly. My last act here will be a few selective deaths, as a lesson for those responsible for my strife. They will know not to cross my path again. Come, I will take you to my lair."

With that, the silver dragon began to draw upon magic in a way Edwin could regrettably never hope to match, building what was very clearly a powerful teleportation spell. Edwin opened his mouth to protest, but to no avail; the magical currents coalesced around them, and the battlescene gave way to Adalon's glittering cave.

 _(Why me?)_ Edwin lamented mentally as his stomach turned itself inside out in response to being teleported. Adalon said a few silvery words, and a wave of magic washed over him, turning his skin and shape back to normal but also triggering a second bout of merciless nausea.

"Edwin?" Mazzy said beside him. (Could he not even be ill in peace anymore?!) He pointedly ignored her, and focused on the far more pressing business of using the sleeve of his drow robe to wipe his beard clean.

(His beard?)

"They... they are gone," he stammered, looking at his chest. Further down his body, a cursory tactile examination revealed that other things had been restored to him.

He was speechless.

"Removing both transformations was simpler than untangling them from each other," Adalon said, sounding vaguely amused. "I could replicate the Netherese spell, if you wish."

"No! No, that will not be necessary," he cried, feeling slightly dizzy from elation (and a touch of lingering nausea, but who cared about that now? He was reborn!).

"Then ready yourselves, and I will take you to the surface exit immediately."

"Thank you," Mazzy said. "I fear we have no time to lose."

Edwin stopped admiring his restored physical perfection. His gaze went past the lumbering giant who was chatting excitedly with his hamster, past the Helmite who was hurriedly sorting through equipment, and landed on Imoen and Ember, both gaunt, both haggard, both paler than death yet still wasting further away. Both with something inhuman lurking in their eyes.

He looked away. "(My robes and staff,)" he muttered, turning his attention to the task of reequipping himself as quickly as possible.

And a few minutes later, when Adalon used her teleportation magics to bring them all directly to the surface exit, he did not complain at all.


	67. Chapter 138: Enemy of an Enemy

**Chapter 138: Enemy of an Enemy**

The group returned to the surface right next to the ancient elven temple that Adalon had guarded for so many years. Little was left of the temple but a few walls, marred both by time and by recent combat. Freshly broken stone lay scattered on the ground, and much of the surrounding vegetation was scorched, trampled, or bloodstained. A smoky haze drifted through the air.

To the east, half obscured by treetops and thick bands of clouds, the sun was rising.

"Daylight," Anomen murmured gratefully, and began reciting a prayer to Helm, his voice reflecting the same relief that Mazzy felt at the sight. Behind them, Minsc was holding up his hamster, making certain that Boo saw that the sun had not gone away forever; even Edwin, standing beside the giant and his hamster, seemed to be appreciating the dawn.

Ember and Imoen, however, were indifferent. "They were here," Imoen muttered in a dull, flat voice. Ember scraped her fingers across a scorched spot on a fragmented wall.

"Halt!"

Two elves, wearing green chainmail beneath cloaks mottled with the colours of the forest, stepped out from between the trees. Both held longbows ready and trained on the group.

"You should not be in this area!" one of the elves shouted. "It is forbidden!"

"You are not drow," the other elf cried, "yet you emerge from their very lair! Are you collaborators? Have you betrayed the surface world to the devils below?"

"We are not, and have not," Mazzy called out in reply. "Adalon brought us here."

"You lie! The Guardian has forsaken this place!"

"(Strictly speaking, that is about to become true,)" Edwin muttered.

"The crimes of Irenicus have prevented her from acting," Mazzy said. "We have aided her -"

"You know of Irenicus?"

"We are pursuing him and his accomplice, Bodhi," Anomen called out.

The two elves exchanged a flurry of words in their own tongue, then nodded at each other. One of them shouted an order; almost immediately, a half dozen elves, armed with bows and spears, appeared between the tree trunks. "You will speak with Elhan," the other elf told the group. "He will determine your relationship with those fiends!"

"By all means," Mazzy replied. "If this Elhan can tell us of Irenicus we are very eager to meet him." She looked at her companions, and noted with concern that Ember was once more showing signs of increased agitation. "Stay calm," Mazzy entreated her. "They are on our side, they just don't -"

"They will not stop me," Ember growled, reaching for the hilt of her weapon.

"You shall not make enemies of these people," Anomen said sharply. "Stand down, and do as they ask!"

Ember seemed to flinch at the command. She glared angrily at the young cleric, but he stood firm. "Save your wrath for Irenicus," he told her. She nodded sullenly, and the rage in her eyes faded a little. Anomen requested her blade; she handed it to him, if a little reluctantly, and when the elves approached to disarm them, he surrendered the blade along with his own weapon.

"Come," one of the elves commanded.

As the group began to move, Mazzy exchanged a worried look with Anomen. He shook his head slightly, looked away, and moved to place himself between Ember and the elves that were guarding them.

-.-.-

The group was led some distance through the forest to a large clearing, which was filled with row upon row of what had to be the elves' version of troop tents. They were directed inside one of the tents, informed that they would be killed on the spot if they made a move against any of the elves, and seemingly left alone; Mazzy had no doubt that they were being watched closely.

"Boo wonders why all this is necessary," Minsc said. "Do the elves not know heroes when they see them?"

"(Heroes? Bah!)" Edwin snorted derisively.

"They have every right to be wary," Mazzy said. "They have been under heavy assault from the depths lately, and I have no doubt that Irenicus has been causing them problems as well. But let us speak no further on that matter," she added quickly, having noticed how Ember's face contorted into a vicious scowl at the mention of her tormentor's name. Had it been wise, she wondered, to agree so readily to discussing Irenicus with the elves?

A short while later, two guards ordered the group out of the tent. Several elves were waiting for them outside; in addition to at least a dozen guards there were four robed figures - two men who appeared to be twins, an elderly woman, and a girl who seemed barely grown to adulthood - and a stern, white-haired elf, his green chainmail trimmed with gold, who regarded the group with a scrutinizing eye before addressing them.

"I am General Elhan," he said. "I have little time to waste on you, so I shall keep this brief. I will ask some things of you, and you will speak what you know. My sages," he gestured at the robed figures, "will detect any falsehood in your words."

"I would advise you to answer truthfully and completely," one of the male sages said, his voice smooth and languid. "No answer is an answer in itself, placing you firmly in league with our enemies."

"We will cooperate," Mazzy said. Elhan's suspicion of them was almost palpable; she hoped it would not take long to placate his fears.

"A wise decision," Elhan said. "I will ask you something simple and direct to begin with. You emerged from the home of the drow; were you fleeing, or are you in league with them?"

"We were fleeing their dark realm," Mazzy said.

"Truth," the elderly woman said.

"I concur," one of the male sages added. "Truth."

"A truth. It is a good start," Elhan said. "You are currently not an ally of the drow - but this tells me nothing of your motives. Let us continue." He looked straight at Mazzy. "Irenicus. What do you know of him?"

"His crimes are the reason we have come this way," Mazzy said. "He -"

"Strong Truth," the young girl interrupted.

"Very much so," the elderly woman said. "The association is clear."

"But what is the nature of that association?" Elhan asked. "Are you in league with Irenicus?"

"No," Mazzy said, "we are -"

With a brusque movement, Ember pushed Mazzy aside and walked up to the elven general, either ignoring or not even noticing the spears his guards immediately aimed at her. "I seek his greasy black heart," she snarled at the general, "and I grow tired of you delaying it!"

For a few heartbeats, nobody moved.

"Absolute truth," one of the male sages said nervously.

"No... no doubt at all, on both answers," added the other one.

General Elhan gazed evenly at the furious being that stood before him. "Why?" he asked.

"He took her soul. And Bodhi took mine," Imoen said in a cold voice. An echo of Ember's anger flared in her eyes. "I want it back!"

The general's eyes went wide. He glanced at his sages.

"Truth," the elderly woman said quietly. The other three nodded in agreement.

General Elhan gave the guards a command in Elvish, and they stood down. "Such a thing should be impossible... but would explain much," he said, and shook his head. "I do not know how it is that you live yet."

"Irenicus," Ember said between clenched teeth. "Where is he?"

"At this moment, he is beyond our reach," Elhan said grimly. "He has stepped beyond all bounds of decency, and our very city is under the weight of his thumb. Suldanessellar is gone."

"Gone?" Mazzy asked in disbelief.

"Irenicus is the most vile of villains that Minsc and Boo have ever seen, but surely not even he would dare to destroy a whole city!" Minsc cried.

"It is has not been destroyed - as far as we know," Elhan said. "Our city has become concealed from the world, and we cannot penetrate the magics that have hidden it. We are forced to remain here, pestered by drow while supplies falter."

"Drow that were incited by Irenicus and the bargains he made in the Underdark," Anomen said.

"Truth."

"Yes, they know much of this."

Edwin sighed exasperatedly and glared at the twin sages, who paid him no heed.

"These people may possibly assist us further yet," the young female sage said excitedly. "If the... enemy is in possession of their souls, would there not be a bond? A bond that might aid us in our scrying?"

"Perhaps," Elhan said. He looked thoughtfully at the group. "I will reveal more to you. This temple was the home of an artifact of great power: the Rhynn Lanthorn. It is an ancient lantern, etched with the oldest of runes and attuned to the elven nation. No magic can weaken its connection to elven lands. We could simply walk to Suldanessellar if we had possession of it." The general's face hardened. "This invaluable relic was stolen when the temple fell to the drow. We have not been able to determine where the thief went, despite the best efforts of our sages. I think that the Lanthorn is no longer in elven territory."

"It is suspected that the Lanthorn was left in the hands of Bodhi, whom we have been unable to scry for," the older woman said.

"But you could scry for my soul instead," Imoen said. The cold anger in her eyes had been replaced by a hungry gleam.

"Your interest in this is as great as ours," the general said. "You cannot object to aiding us in our divinations."

"I will help you," Imoen said, "and I will hunt her down along with you."

"As will we all," Mazzy added.

"We agree to your terms," Elhan said. One of the guards said something in Elvish; the general silenced him with a gesture and a sharp glance. "These people will aid in our recovery, as we will in theirs," he told the guards. "Go, and let the others know the foreigners are free to come and go, except in the restricted areas."

The guards bowed to the general, and left.

"This tent will remain at your disposal," Elhan said to the group. "Do not stray into the forest, and do not approach the temple ruins. Our sages may start their divinations immediately, if the girl is ready."

"Her name is Imoen," Edwin snapped.

"I am ready," Imoen said.

-.-.-

It was evening before Imoen was returned to the tent, accompanied by General Elhan and the four sages. Imoen appeared utterly exhausted; the four sages seemed to regard her with a mixture of awe and fear.

The divinations appeared to have been successful. Imoen's soul did indeed seem to be far away, somewhere in the direction of central Amn.

At dawn, the group left the elven war camp, riding on light horses provided by General Elhan. With them rode a dozen of the general's best soldiers and clerics, and also Meriel, the young female sage: her task would be to repeat and refine the divinations that had been performed with Imoen, and thus home in on their quarry.

The hungry gleam lingered in Imoen's eyes, and she paid no heed to the rising sun as they rode forth.

* * *

 _Note: this is the last chapter I ever posted elsewhere, back in 2012. Undiscovered country up next! **  
**_


	68. Chapter 139: The Hunt for Bodhi

**Chapter 139: The Hunt for Bodhi**

Travelling on horseback, the group and their elven escort made swift progress through the early autumn landscape of Tethyr and Amn. The horses provided by General Elhan were sturdier than their delicate builds implied, sure-footed, and steady-tempered; with the guidance supplied by the elves, even those with little or no knowledge of horsemanship rode with little difficulty, and even though Anomen had feared that he or Minsc might prove too heavy for the horses, switching mounts after each break seemed sufficient to not unduly burden any of the creatures. Their course, too, was soon firmly set: the divinations of Imoen and the elven sage Meriel served as their beacon, and while it had, at first, seemed they were headed for Athkatla, their course now pointed with ever greater certainty towards the Umar Hills.

Their journey, however swift, was not easy. The Bhaalspawn's fatigue was now plain for all to see. Ember had become sullen and quiet since their time in Ust Natha, but her apathy was interspersed with sudden outbursts of rage, aimed at everything and nothing. While Imoen spoke little more than Ember did, her silence was now one of cold, focused intensity, her hungry gaze forever fixed on the path ahead of them. Aside from the sage, the elves kept their distance, speaking amongst themselves in their own tongue and, on occasion, gazing darkly at the group they had been obliged to escort. Edwin obsessed, quite vocally and vitriolic, about what the elves knew and were not telling them; Minsc engaged his hamster in quiet, tearful conversations in the evenings; a worried look haunted Mazzy's expression. The urgency of their quest lay heavily upon them all.

On the third day of their travels, the extended party arrived in Imnesvale in the heart of the Umar Hills to find the village in uproar. At the inn, they learned of many strange events that had occurred the past tenday: in addition to odd sightings in the forest, a number of people were missing, and several cows had been found dead in their pastures, bled utterly dry. Rumour spoke of the Shade Lord, returned to destroy them all, but also of the Umar Witch, come on a similar errand of vengeance. The innkeeper spoke of the valiant Lord Corthala, set out only the day before with a group of eight to investigate the ancient temple.

The day was young, and the incentive to continue onwards was as strong as the fear of what delay might bring. Not an hour after arriving in Imnesvale they set out again, following the tracks of Valygar Corthala.

-.-.-

Dusk had wholly given way to night by the time the extended party and the weary horses that bore them reached Lord Corthala's camp in the heart of the woods, not far from the temple itself. To Anomen's surprise, he recognized two of the lord's companions; in addition to four fighters and a cleric of Lathander, two paladins of the Order of the Radiant Heart stood with him. They were Lady Irlana Cogsplitter, a seasoned paladin of Tyr, and Sir Goren Berecarn, a young man who had earned his knighthood as a paladin of Helm only last winter. He gave them a bow of greeting and acknowledgement, and was granted the same in return, but he did not approach them.

The elves gathered the horses and set up their own camp beside the existing one, while Mazzy graciously accepted Lord Corthala's invitation for the group to join both their camp and their supper. With the aid of Minsc, Anomen helped Ember and Imoen get settled in a reasonably calm manner some distance from the main campfire. Edwin was quick to follow them, carrying bowls of warm food and a loaf of elven bread from their own supplies.

"Stew," Edwin announced, handing one of the bowls to Anomen.

Anomen inspected the contents of the bowl. He could not see any large pieces of meat, which would have compelled Ember to slowly, methodically, and repeatedly stab her food rather than ingesting it. Nay, here were only small cubes of meat and tubers, cooked to a fairly uniform blend. There would be no need for knives at all for this meal, he noted with satisfaction, and gave the bowl and a spoon to Ember. As he sat down by her side, intent on ensuring that she did eat at least a little of what was offered her, he glanced towards the main campfire where Mazzy was talking with Lord Corthala. Sir Goren and Lady Irlana sat there also. They were conversing eagerly with each other, and they were regarding Anomen as they did so.

Heat rose in Anomen's cheeks as he looked away. Why were they speaking of him? Had they perceived a flaw in his conduct? Were they seeking fault in him? Were they... He sighed, and tried to dismiss those thoughts. He had passed his Test. The paladins were his peers, not his judges, and he had more important matters to attend to than speculating about the idle gossip of others!

Some time later, after Anomen had managed to coax Ember into eating fully half of her meal, Mazzy and Lord Corthala approached. The lord's stern gaze lingered on Ember and Imoen, and it was evident that he did not like what he saw. "Anomen, Edwin," Mazzy said, "do you have a moment?"

"We must speak," Lord Corthala said.

Along with the grumbling wizard, Anomen followed Mazzy and Lord Corthala to the main campfire, leaving Ember and Imoen in Minsc's care. The two paladins were still there; Anomen exchanged greetings with them, and could not help but notice that Sir Goren seemed uneasy around him. And was that pity he saw in Lady Irlana's gaze?

"Mazzy has told us of your... predicament," Lord Corthala said.

Was that, perchance, the reason for the odd behaviour of his fellow knights? And how much had Mazzy told them?

"As I understand it," Lord Corthala continued, "you intend to capture this Bodhi."

"It is likely that only her accomplice knows how to undo what they have done," Anomen said. "Our safest bet, it seems, is to return her to Irenicus."

"If the elves know a better way, they have not told us about it," Edwin said. "(Or anything else, for that matter!)"

"And if you cannot capture her? An abomination such as her -"

Edwin sprang to his feet. "Do not **dare** suggest that we endanger Imoen's soul!"

"You may have no choice."

"(I do not have to listen to this,)" Edwin muttered, and walked away from the campfire.

"We will all do what we must," Anomen said stiffly in the silence that followed, "even the wizard. Mazzy knows this."

"It is encouraging, though, to hear you affirm her words," Lord Corthala said. "We will scout the temple at first light. However powerful Bodhi might be, we may be able to subdue her during the daylight hours."

Those assembled around the fire discussed tactics for some time, but Anomen found himself unable to focus properly on the conversation. Too often, his gaze darted to where Ember sat, as inanimate as a rock, and his thoughts kept attempting to wander down paths he refused to let them take. He was also troubled by the persisting uneasy manner of his two fellow knights, especially when they proved capable of discussing the mission itself with all the confidence that behooved them as Knights of the Order.

By the time Lord Corthala ended the discussion for the night, Anomen had reached a decision.

"Sir Goren," he said as young man made to leave, "tell me, what is amiss?"

"Amiss?" the other said, attempting to feign ignorance.

"Come, now, your face is too honest for duplicity," Anomen said. "Something is troubling you. Something that pertains to me."

"Truly, Sir Anomen, it can wait - we have a crucial task before us -"

"We do indeed," Anomen said, an icy knot forming in the pit of his stomach, "and would you have me go to this task, preoccupied with wondering what it is that you will not tell me?"

Sir Goren swallowed. "It... it concerns your father," he said.

The knot in Anomen's stomach tightened. "What has happened?"

"He challenged Saerk Farrahd to a duel, not a tenday ago. He... they found evidence later, in his home, that implicated Saerk's son Yusuf as the killer of your sister. It is said the Shadow Thieves provided him with it, and your father, it seemed, would rather take the matter into his own hands than let the authorities deal with it. He..."

"He is dead," Anomen whispered.

Sir Goren nodded. "I am sorry," he murmured.

The pity in the young knight's eyes was unbearable. Blinking back tears, Anomen turned from him and stumbled away from the campfire, away from the camp, into the darkness between the trees.

He should have known. He should have known his father would do something so... so utterly foolish!

He should have been there to stop him. Nay, even more; he should have done his duty and made his own inquiries, Bylanna Ianulin's wishes be damned! Instead, he had once again abandoned his family when he was needed, and now they were all destroyed!

All gone...

He had nothing left. Not even Ember. She, too, was truly gone; he was a fool to have deluded himself for so long. She had been killed back in Spellhold, an eternity ago, and nothing would bring her back! It would have been kinder to have destroyed the mockery of her, the hollow shell that remained of her body, right at the start! Through inaction, he had failed even her!

"Well, well..." an icy voice purred behind him, "what have we here?"

-.-.-

" **Why** did you have to tell him?" Edwin complained to Sir Goren as they, Lady Irlana, and Mazzy searched the area around the camp for Anomen. "Would it really have hurt you that much to lie about it?! Yes, I did suggest that you tell a lie, and there's no need to look so abhorred by that notion!"

"We saw he was already burdened," Lady Irlana said. "We knew he must be informed, but we wished to tell him after confronting the vampire. Unfortunately, he noticed something was awry."

"He insisted I tell him," Sir Goren said unhappily. "And even if I were capable of... of falsehood, do you truly think Sir Anomen would not know a lie when he heard one?"

"With you, a blind infant would have been able to tell!" the wizard snapped.

"What's done is done," Mazzy said. "Come, let us continue our search. Anomen cannot have strayed far."

A short, sharp horn signal came from the forest ahead of them; Mazzy and the others with her hurried in the direction of the sound. They soon found Valygar and his fighter companions, standing by a patch of trampled grass. In the light of their torches, Mazzy saw a small pile of what looked like ashes, and a number of dark spatters on the grass and the surrounding trees. A small metal object caught her eye; she bent and picked it up.

Anomen's holy symbol. It was stained with blood.

"Is friend Anomen here?" Minsc came charging towards them, followed by Ember, Imoen, and Dawnbringer Hedin, the Lathanderite priest. Mazzy showed them the holy symbol.

"They must have taken him," she said.

Minsc was aghast. "This cannot be! Minsc will not stand for this!"

"Battles have been won here in the dark before," Valygar said. "We -"

"Where?" Ember growled at Imoen, who closed her eyes and pointed in the direction of the ancient temple. Ember started walking away, then broke into a run, heading in the direction of their camp.

"Follow her!" Mazzy cried.

They all hurried back to the camp, but she was not there. The contents of Anomen's pack lay scattered on the ground, and Ember's weapon, which he had kept stowed with his gear, was missing.

"What does she think she is doing?" Dawnbringer Hedin asked. "She cannot possibly think of charging alone!"

"She can," Mazzy said grimly.

"Lady Irlana, alert the elves," Valygar commanded. "Everyone else, prepare to move. Now!"


	69. Chapter 140: Into Shadow

**Chapter 140: Into Shadow**

The joint force assembled and rode to the ancient temple as quickly as they could, but not even the speed of the elven horses was enough to let them catch up with Ember. She had taken a horse of her own from the camp, and when the others arrived at the temple, they found the poor beast stumbling around near the entrance, covered in sweat and its eyes wide with fear. Ember herself was nowhere to be seen.

"She has entered the temple," Sage Meriel said as one of the other elves moved slowly towards Ember's terrified horse. "Halren will tend to her horse. Tether your mounts securely; they have no more desire than we do to linger in this place."

Once the horses were secured, Valygar led their forces into the temple, leaving only the elf Halren behind outside. The dusty floors and crumbling walls of what remained of the ancient temple were, for the most part, just as Mazzy remembered them, but alongside the scattered piles of old bones that lay strewn throughout the corridors was a faint new trail, marked by drops and spatters of fresh blood. An erratic string of crashing sounds came from somewhere up ahead.

"Not far," Imoen said, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

The scattered bloodstains led into one of the larger chambers, not far from the cell where Mazzy had been imprisoned by the Shade Lord. It was there that they found Ember, in front of a massive barricade of wood and stone that obstructed their access to the rest of the temple. She was hitting it, kicking it, throwing her weight against it; the source of the crashing sounds. The trail of blood appeared to continue under and beyond the barricade.

"She is doing it wrong! Boo knows a better way," Minsc said. He went to the barricade and lifted the end of one of the more accessible logs, half lifting and half dragging it out of the snarled mess it was embedded in. Ember ceased what she was doing, watched in apparent confusion for a few moments, then came to Minsc's aid. The two burliest of Valygar's men set to work on a log that lay crossed over the one Minsc had picked, and before long, both logs were worked loose. As they were pulled out, part of the barricade collapsed with a loud crash.

"Well done!" Mazzy cried.

"Fools! You should not have come here," Bodhi's voice hissed from somewhere beyond the barricade. "Have you learned nothing? The longer you pursue me, the more you will lose!"

"You will return what you have stolen!" one of the elves bellowed. "Do not think you can hide from us!"

Bodhi laughed. "Suldanessellar has sent its finest after me, has it? How delightful." She spoke further in Elvish, fluent-sounding Elvish, and from the tone of it, what she had to say was far from flattering.

"Do not sully our tongue by speaking it, fiend!"

"You would rather I'd let the humans hear what I have to say, then? What story did you feed them - that Irenicus and I were some foreign intruders? That we were attacking your precious city for no reason? I know you would not have told them that we are very familiar indeed, for how could **that** be? After all, no **elf** would dare turn against the others, no **elf** would endanger the very fabric of their society, no **elf** would do as Irenicus and I have done!"

"(I knew it!)" Edwin muttered.

"Silence!" the elf shouted.

"Oh, but of course the mighty general Elhan would not have spoken of what he knows," Bodhi continued. "He would not have spoken of how he stood by while they echoed our crimes in their punishments! It is almost tempting to let you depart with your lives, just so he could have the shame of having outsiders questioning him about this whole matter - almost!"

"Come forth and get what you deserve!" one of the elves shouted, only to have his bravado met with silence. Bodhi, it seemed, had nothing more to say to them, not even when Minsc, Ember, and the two men succeeded in pulling down what remained of the barricade. Despite Sir Goren's cries of caution, Ember rushed into the next chamber, obliging the others to follow.

Vampires awaited them there. Bodhi herself was nowhere to be seen, but at least a dozen of her ilk, ready for combat and eager for blood, stood scattered throughout the chamber. They charged at the invading force, only to be knocked back when a prayer from Dawnbringer Hedin brought the rosy light of dawn into the chamber. The vampires hissed in pain and staggered about in confusion, confusion which worsened when the two paladins called upon their gods to repulse the undead creatures.

"We outnumber them!" Valygar shouted. "Hold your ground! Work together!"

While the other fighters moved to engage the enemy directly, Mazzy climbed up on a stone table and set to work with her bow. She targeted necks, limbs, and exposed backs; the arm of a vampire, raised to strike one of the elves; the unguarded flank of a vampire no larger than herself; the face of a large beast that was moving towards the Red Wizard. A vampire that had been set alight ran haphazardly in her direction, screaming as flames consumed it. She shot an arrow through its foot, halting the creature; its eyes fixed on Mazzy as it fell to the floor in a tangle of burning limbs and rags.

"Mistress Fentan!" Lady Irlana cried behind Mazzy. "Look to your comrades!"

Mazzy turned to the paladin, who pointed at Ember and Imoen. Completely ignoring the vampires and the battle that went on around them, the two Bhaalspawn were moving towards a corridor that led further into the temple ruins.

"They must be going after Bodhi," Mazzy said, alarmed, and hurried after them. Who knew what might happen if those two were to confront her alone?

"I will come with you," Lady Irlana said, and followed Mazzy down the winding corridor towards the inner sanctum of the temple. Ahead of them, Ember and Imoen were all but running, clearly certain of where they were headed. They did not halt until they reached the large chamber where Minsc had once almost been killed by a bone golem. Bodhi was there, gathering up some books that lay on an ancient stone sarcophagus; when Ember and Imoen approached her, she flung the books aside.

"You will not stop me now," Bodhi snarled. "Come forth, my pet!"

Anomen shambled into the chamber, armed with a sword. His helmet was missing, and his armour was stained with copious amounts of blood. His skin was grey. His eyes were glassy. Dark blood seeped from a gaping wound on his neck.

"Arvoreen's mercy," Mazzy whispered.

"Yes, he is mine," Bodhi said, glaring triumphantly at Ember, who stood as still as stone in the middle of the chamber. "Neither you nor his chuch could claim the kind of loyalty I have taken with a bite and a gaze. Even though he is not yet fully turned, his will is entirely mine; he will carve your heart out with but a word I say."

"You have murdered him," Imoen said.

"And now he will murder you."

Ember laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound, devoid of anything resembling mirth or joy; a sound that grew louder and harsher with every breath until it blossomed into a scream of rage - and with that scream on her lips, she charged at Bodhi.

Anomen abruptly lurched forward, moving to intercept Ember, but she smoothly dodged the blow he aimed at her and lunged at the vampire, who countered with a swift hit, knocking Ember back much as one might treat a jumping, snapping dog. Imoen, too, was moving towards Bodhi, and seemed to be chanting something under her breath.

"Tyr, stand with us!" Lady Irlana cried, and charged towards Anomen. Mazzy ran around them, intent on aiding Ember against the greater vampire. She noticed with alarm that Ember was slashing recklessly at Bodhi, not caring to aim or plan, and her defense was haphazard at best -

With a loud crack, Ember's enchanted shield shattered under a vicious, poorly deflected blow. Ember barely seemed to notice the loss; she fought on, slashing recklessly at Bodhi with her blade while fragments of her shield fell from the wreckage that was still strapped to her arm. Her face was frozen in a feral grimace, and her eyes, which seemed to burn with rage, were rapidly turning black.

"What is going on?" Edwin shouted from the entrance of the chamber. "Where is... (oh, **hells.** )"

Horrified, Mazzy could do nothing but watch as transformation rippled over Ember's form, turning her body into a lacerated corpse and supplanting her eyes with dark hollows, brimming with hellfire. The blade Ember had tried to use against Bodhi fell uselessly from the creature's hands as they elongated into cruel skeletal claws. In an instant, Ember was gone, usurped by the avatar of Murder.

Bodhi cried out in fear and scrambled to get away from the Slayer, but the monster was faster than she, and reached out with taloned hands to seize her by the neck. The vampire's screams became choked gasps as the Slayer's scythelike claws dug into her throat; black ichor seeped from the wounds as Bodhi kicked and struggled to be free.

"No! Life... mine!" Bodhi wheezed. She pulled her body back, letting the Slayer's claws tear her throat open as she pulled free from its grip, and in the brief moment before the Slayer lunged for her again, she transformed into a bat and flew unsteadily towards the ceiling of the chamber. The Slayer leaped up, trying to catch the bat in its hands; a twisted mockery of a child chasing a butterfly.

Imoen raised her hands, and her muttered chanting became the loud, clear incantation of a spell. The Slayer turned to look at her, its eyes burning with hatred and bloodlust, and charged towards its sister.

"No!" Edwin screamed.

Imoen lowered her hands and brought down the fire of the sun.

-.-.-

For a short while after the Sunfire spell, Mazzy could see nothing but white. Then, she saw vague shadows, blurry shapes, and finally the room as it was, which was nothing like how it had been.

Anomen, singed and burnt by Imoen's spell, lay at the feet of Lady Irlana. She, in turn, stood perfectly still, eyes wide and face pale with shock.

Edwin had not left the entrance. He held on to the doorframe with one hand, as if to support himself, and rubbed his eyes with his other hand.

Ember lay on the floor, restored to her own body but apparently unconscious. Blood trickled from her nose.

A small pile of ash that had not been there before lay just about where Mazzy had last seen Bodhi.

Imoen had fallen to her knees, and sat, trembling, with her arms wrapped around herself.

The only sound in the chamber was that of Imoen weeping.


	70. Chapter 141: Old Lore

**Chapter 141: Old Lore**

The chamber where Bodhi fell was quickly becoming as crowded and noisy as any Thayvian marketplace. The elves were standing in a huddle around their sacred lantern, which they had found amongst Bodhi's belongings on top of an old sarcophagus, and chattering excitedly in their own tongue. The elves' behaviour was understandable, Edwin supposed, but why Corthala and his cronies couldn't find anything better to do than to cluster around Mazzy and complain about why they hadn't been told that Ember was a Bhaalspawn was beyond him.

Not that that mattered.

Imoen had not died along with Bodhi. The Slayer had not ripped her to shreds. Instead... (he could still hardly believe it) instead, her careless, thoughtless, insanely reckless stunt with the Sunfire spell had been just what was needed to save her! She was alive! She was whole! She was restored!

She was sitting beside him, watching the room. Her tear-stained cheeks were drying. Even her colour seemed better already!

He opened his mouth to say something, changed his mind, changed his mind again. "What were you thinking?!" he finally blurted out - but it was the wrong thing to say. He knew it as soon as he'd said it, and he knew it even more when she answered him with a sad, weary look that made him cringe.

"(That was not what I meant,)" he muttered embarrassedly. Inwardly, he cursed himself. (When was the last time an Odesseiron had had no idea what to say to someone? Pathetic!)

Before he could come up with something more comforting to say, Imoen got to her feet. "I want to see her," she said, and set off towards the rest of the group, not waiting for his acknowledgement, and not waiting for him. There was nothing for Edwin to do but follow her.

Ember was kneeling beside Anomen's body, staring at it with a stony expression. She looked up when Imoen approached her, and at the sight of her sister, something dark and ugly blazed in her eyes, only to fade away to nothing an instant later. She looked weak and tired and unpleasantly too much like how Imoen had been, but beyond that one dark flicker, there didn't seem to be any more murderous rage in her. For now. "It shouldn't have happened," she said. Her gaze and whatever attention went with it was already back on the body in front of her.

Minsc, who stood guard over Ember with his sword drawn, stopped glaring at Corthala's strongmen in order to give Imoen a small smile. "Boo will be so happy to see you," he said. The effect was instant: Imoen ran straight to the giant and hugged him. Edwin turned away from the childish display of emotions that he had absolutely no interest in. Let Minsc take charge of her, then, if that was what she wanted! What did he care? He was a Red Wizard, not a nursemaid, and he would not be made to stand around and feel useless!

"(Not even for her,)" he murmured angrily as he walked away.

-.-.-

Passing by the prattling elves, Edwin moved towards the knot of paladins and hirelings and self-righteous lords that stood around Mazzy. Their discussion had moved on from Ember's evil nature, and was now about Anomen's fate. Surprisingly, there was some dissent on the matter: one of the paladins seemed to have qualms about what had to be done.

"This is nonsense," one of Corthala's cronies grumbled. "The longer we wait, the sooner he'll finish regenerating or recuperating or whatever one would call it, and then we'll have a fully fledged and awake vampire on our hands!"

"All the more reason to think of something now!" Goren, the Helmite paladin, cried. "The fault is mine; there must be a way for me to make amends!"

"You did not bid him leave the camp," the lady paladin Irlana replied. "You did not take... The fault belongs with Bodhi, and none other."

"There is nothing more we can do for him," Corthala said. "His turning cannot be stopped. We cannot help him... except by setting him free."

"He will receive his reward in the halls of Helm," the Lathanderite priest added consolingly.

"But... there are legends, I heard them as a child! Stories of those who had such a curse reversed before it destroyed them! Could there not have been a grain of truth in them?"

Edwin sighed. (Leave it to a paladin to seek a happier solution in a fairy tale...)

The elven sage approached them. "My people have similar stories of undeath reversed," she said, "but those tales are from the days of the Netherese. They are echoes of knowledge that was lost and never found again. I am sorry."

"(Typical,)" Edwin grumbled. Of course the Netherese had to be at the root of this ridiculous notion! Was there ever such a nation of worthless, witless, useless pranksters? The world was well rid of them, as far as he...

Amaunator was a Netherese deity.

Several thoughts, each of them clamoring for immediate attention, flashed through Edwin's mind. Why were they here, of all places? Why had Bodhi been here? Why would a vampire seek refuge in a sun temple? What did her final words mean? What did they imply? What, exactly, had she been planning?

"Tell me of these legends," he demanded. "How was it done?"

"None of our stories say," the sage said. "The knowledge is -"

"Is lost, yes, but what do the stories say?"

"In one of the stories I heard," Goren said, "a young man of pure heart searched across the world for his true love. When he found her at last, she was in a vampire's lair, and had been turned. He used a magical gem to turn the vampire to stone - yes, that is what the story said - and carried his love outside, that the morning sun might destroy her. His tears fell on her, wetting her face and hands, and when the sun rose, she did not burn; instead, she woke as herself, restored to life."

Edwin looked pointedly at the sage.

"Our tales," the sage said hesitantly, "speak of a great battle against the undead, where many fell into darkness. Those who did not fall turned to their gods, and such was their power in those days that many were cleansed and brought back to life. It is not known how it was done."

"A fact you've made abundantly clear. Would Bodhi have known those tales?"

"I... it is not my place to -"

"You may continue your charade of ignorance **after** you answer me, elf!"

The sage blushed angrily. "It is possible," she said.

Gods in one tale, sunlight in another. And here they were in the temple of Amaunator, the ancient sun god himself. It couldn't be a coincidence!

Edwin hurried to the sarcophagus where Bodhi had gathered her belongings. Several of the things there caught his interest: a haphazard pile of familiar-looking books, Anomen's illithium-coated mace, and a small, glittering object. He picked up the latter. It was a powerfully enchanted amulet, wrought from silver and illithium, and unless there were two such amulets in the world, he had last seen it around Ember's neck. "Mazzy! Do you recognize this?" he said, holding up the amulet.

Mazzy frowned and inspected Ember's neck, which was decidedly amulet-less. "It is hers, isn't it? I never noticed she'd lost it."

"Spellhold," Ember muttered. "It does not matter."

"(Of course it doesn't matter... bah!)" Edwin grumbled, and turned his attention to the pile of books. They were the very same volumes about vampirism that he'd seen in Bodhi's lair in Athkatla - which was also where Anomen's mace had originally come from (he really should have questioned why a vampire would keep such a thing around at the time!). He picked up the topmost of the volumes, a book that, judging by the wear and tear on the binding, had been titled 'The Vampiric Omnibus' with gold letter at some far later date. "Have any of you in this room even bothered to wonder **why** Bodhi would come here at all?" he snapped as he carefully opened the book at one of the numerous places where someone had inserted a loose page. "What would a vampire want in a sun temple, and why would she bother to fetch her library from Athkatla? (And don't even get me started on her apparent hoarding of illithium artifacts!)"

"She might have sought the Shade Lord here," Corthala suggested.

"Because she couldn't possibly have learned of what we did to **him** , hm?" Not bothering to wait for someone to suggest that Bodhi wanted to destroy herself with the illithium or something equally asinine, and doing his best to ignore the fact that he was (as usual) surrounded by idiots, Edwin concentrated on trying to make sense of Bodhi's research. The text of the book itself was illegible, even to him, but Bodhi or someone else had attempted to translate and decipher several passages on loose sheafs and scraps of paper, even scrawling in the margins of the book in places. Most of the translations were about the origin and creation of vampires, interspersed with the oddities such as a speculative treatise on the fate of a vampire's soul (which Bodhi seemed to have found both amusing and frustrating, judging by her margin scrawls), and then, on a page more riddled with markings and notes than any other...

"These newly fallen could not be abandoned," he read out loud. "Amaunator, whose touch turns shadows to fire... Before the Sun God were the infected placed, with purest illithium upon their breast... The Sun Lord answered our prayers. Blood did burn, and the dead returned, but not as undead or unliving..."

He looked triumphantly at the others, who were all staring wide-eyed at him. "Alive," he quoted, "and freed from taint."

-.-.-

In the hour before dawn, everyone stood assembled around the main altar in the temple courtyard. Anomen's body had been been lain on the altar with his illithium-coated mace on his chest (everyone had pretended to ignore the faint sizzling sound and smell of burnt dust when was placed there). The Lathanderite, the paladins, and the elven clerics stood around the altar, praying as they waited for dawn; the others stood scattered around the courtyard, just waiting.

Imoen was there too, asleep in a corner not too far from Ember (who was awake, and glaring at the altar), with Minsc standing guard over them both. Imoen's face was calm in sleep; for the first time since the Sword Coast, she looked at peace with herself.

Edwin clenched his fists. If Bodhi had managed to go through with her resurrection... the vampire would never know how fortunate she'd been to get killed before she got that far - or, for that matter, before Edwin learned of her plan.

(Why hadn't she gone through with it, though?)

"This is will never work," one of Corthala's cronies grumbled.

"Worth a try, though," another said.

"Amaunator is dead."

"So is Bhaal. Doesn't seem to stop him, now, does it?"

"Hrm. We'll see."

(What could he be missing?)

"You look nervous," Mazzy said beside Edwin.

"I am not nervous!" he snapped at her. "(And do not startle me!)"

"Very well," she said, and turned to watch the altar.

The sun was rising.

Rays of golden light burst through the forest and struck the altar and the body upon it. The illithium mace seemed to catch every single ray, turning too bright to look at - no, it was burning, burning with blindingly white flames that engulfed Anomen's body.

Edwin closed his eyes. His plan had failed. (At least they would no longer have to deal with staking the Helmite themselves...)

Why was the Lathanderite still chanting, and why did it sound like a healing spell?

He looked back at the altar. The flames were fading away. Anomen's body was still on the altar, and it was moving.

(Could it be?)

Anomen coughed faintly and rolled to the side, almost falling off the altar, then vomited up some kind of black dust that dissolved in the sunlight. The priests and paladins chanted even more spells, both healing and divinatory. Mazzy ran towards the altar; Edwin was running, too.

"Well?!" Edwin demanded.

"He lives!" Goren cried.

(It had worked!)

"You... you brought me back?" Anomen stammered. He was sitting up, supported by Irlana. "I... cannot believe..."

"Believe it, Sir Anomen," Corthala said, smiling. "Welcome back."

The others gathered around Anomen, talking excitedly and laughing. Edwin moved away from them. He had better things to do, he was sure -

"Edwin?"

He turned. "Mazzy?"

"Many who were dear to me were lost in this place. Last night, I thought it had claimed yet another friend." She smiled at him. "Thank you, Edwin. I will not forget this."

A strange, pleasant warmth seemed to fill Edwin's heart. He gave Mazzy a slight bow. "You're welcome," he said.


	71. Chapter 142: The Rhynn Lanthorn

**Chapter 142: The Rhynn Lanthorn**

Anomen Delryn had been through hell, and lived.

A moment of despair in the wrong place, at the wrong time, had rendered him an easy target for Bodhi. She had taken him, had bound him with vampiric spells, had... had... Poisoned by her black blood, he had become an abomination; a puppet; a mindless extension of her will. His own self had been trapped in a body no longer its own, endlessly dying yet unable to let go, not even after Bodhi fell, not even when the world turned wholly to darkness and death would have been the greatest mercy imaginable...

And then, through the persistence of Sir Goren, the intellect of Edwin Odesseiron, and the grace of long-lost Amaunator, he had been pulled from that bleak world ere he drowned in it. In the light of the rising sun, he had been restored to breath and life.

It was all but unfathomable.

"Sir Anomen, is all well?"

Startled, Anomen looked up at Sir Goren's worried face. "Indeed; I was merely lost in thought," he said apologetically, and moved to sit a little more upright. A quick glance to his right verified that Ember, curled up in her cloak beside him, remained mercifully asleep.

"You must have much on your mind," the young paladin said, seating himself on a fallen treetrunk beside Anomen.

He laughed quietly. "One might say that!"

"I am sorry that we cannot come with you. Lord Corthala tried to convince the elves, but..."

"The elves will barely suffer the return of the six of us." Anomen glanced towards the rest of his comrades, who were preparing the horses for the ride back to the elven city. Lord Corthala was with them, assisting Imoen with packing their supplies. "I understand, and your offer is most appreciated."

"And what of our other offer?" Sir Goren asked hesitantly.

Anomen sighed. "What of it?"

"You could still reconsider."

"Nay, I cannot."

"The Order -"

"It is not enough that they shall have the knowledge that you and Odesseiron unearthed? What does it matter whether I recount my suffering to the Order now, or later?"

"We ask for your sake, not for the Order's," Lady Irlana said, approaching them. "Please, come home with us."

Anomen got to his feet; it was a simple enough action, but his head swam with the effort. "I will not have you wake her," he said as he attempted to hide his discomfort, and gestured for the paladins to step aside with him. "A scant few hours ago, I was granted my life anew," he said pointedly. "Why would you have my first act in it be to shirk my duty?"

"How can you shirk a duty you are not fit to perform?" Lady Irlana asked. "With what you have endured... you cannot tell me you have not been weakened, not when I see you struggle to stand. Are you even capable of wielding a weapon?"

"As I no longer have a weapon to wield, I fail to see that that should pose a problem," he replied irritably. "Am I naught but my arm? Helm is with me; I am His priest, yet."

"That is good to hear," Sir Goren murmured.

"Your concern for my well-being is appreciated, truly," Anomen continued, "but my recovery can wait. Hers cannot."

Lady Irlana sighed. "Forgive me, but I must be blunt," she said. "Do you know what she became last night? Do you know what you have sworn your allegiance to?"

"I know."

"And yet you -"

"Would it in any way assuage your doubts to know that the upper echelons of the Order, too, are aware of her nature; that they knew who she was when they sent me with her?" he asked. "My oaths, though you may not approve of them, are not heedlessly sworn. I must go with her, and I shall."

"Anomen, do you not see?" Lady Irlana cried. "You're letting your feelings blind you!"

He shook his head. "Yesterday, perhaps, but not today," he said. "You must excuse me; it seems my companions are all but done with the preparations, and we have no time to lose." Walking as quickly as his weary body would allow, he went to wake Ember for the ride that lay ahead.

-.-.-

Imoen rode with her eyes half closed. The sun was setting, and the light that fell through the trees flitted across her face in dappled patches of bright warmth; she liked the feeling almost as much as she'd enjoyed the breeze through her hair the last time they rode across an open meadow. She liked the shadowy spots, too, and the quiet sounds of people and horses moving around her. Most of all, she liked that she could like stuff again.

So much had changed while she'd been gone.

Minsc and Boo were still with her, and Edwin had come back, but everything else in her world was different. She had two new friends who she didn't really know; even though she'd spent several tendays with Mazzy and Anomen, it felt like they were people she'd been reading about, and that she'd only just now actually met them. More than half a year had gone by without her while she'd been in one prison or another. She'd been lost, and then she'd been found. She'd learned who she really was, and now that she was aware of it, she didn't think she could stop noticing the little tiny voice behind her heart that kept whispering to her about killing things.

Her best friend - her **sister** \- was dying.

"Boo says we are almost there," Minsc suddenly announced as they rode through a cluster of giant oak trees.

"It is so," Sage Meriel said. "The scouts will have reported our approach already."

"(Because **they** would need to know everything, of course,)" Edwin grumbled.

"Edwin," Mazzy sighed.

"The one and only," Imoen murmured, and nudged her horse closer to Edwin's. "Why can't you let it rest?" she asked him. "You know she tells us as much as she can." Meriel was the only one of the elves who wasn't too high and mighty and secretive to talk to them, and she seemed to try to make up for the others' buffleheadedness by always being there to make sure their little group had some idea what was going on, no matter how much was muttered in Elven around them. So what if it 'wasn't her place' to let them know the truth about what Bodhi had said about the elves?

"Do not pretend that you don't want to know more about what they are hiding," Edwin said testily. "(And do not lecture me.)"

"I do want to know," Imoen said, "but I have more important things on my mind right now." She looked at Ember, riding ahead of her with Anomen on her left and Minsc, who held her horse's reins, on her right. She seemed to be sitting a little straighter in her saddle than before, riding a little less like a sack of potatoes. Imoen remembered how she'd felt as they drew close to the temple where Bodhi was; she hadn't known what it was - it hadn't been possible for her to understand what was missing, while it was missing - but she had known that ahead of them was something that she needed more than anything else in the world.

Was it like that for Ember now?

Imoen shivered. Part of her wished there was a way to just skip ahead to where Irenicus would be dead and gone and Ember would be herself again, while another part of her was more than eager to just charge in and attack something. At the same time, and above all, she was afraid of seeing Irenicus again.

"Imoen," Edwin said.

"Hmm?"

"(Deaf as a post.) I asked you, are you cold?"

"Oh," she said. "No. Not really."

At sundown, the elves lit torches. There'd be no camping tonight, not this close to their goal; instead, they were supposed to ride on until they reached the city. It grew darker and darker until Imoen couldn't see really anything beyond the range of their torches. Little wisps of fog curled between the trees, and there was a chill in the air. It made her uneasy. _Bad things happen in dark places,_ she thought, and nudged her horse closer to Minsc.

The ride through the dark seemed to last forever. Nobody talked, but the elves kept looking around and peering into the darkness ahead of them, and suddenly, one of the riders at the front raised his hand, and everyone stopped moving. A half dozen or so other elves, all of them armed with bows and long knives, stepped out from between the trees. Imoen saw Meriel spur her horse forward to meet the newcomers; they talked with her and the elven party's war leader, then vanished into the woods again.

"Look," Mazzy said. "They are readying the Lanthorn."

A hard knot formed in Imoen's stomach as she watched two of the elves remove the layers of silk veils that had been wrapped around the Rhynn Lanthorn. Even without being lit in any way, the Lanthorn seemed to glow, and Imoen could feel the magic thrumming through it. They were close now, really close...

The elves picked up the pace, following some path through the trees that Imoen couldn't see at all, and suddenly there weren't just trees in front of them but elves, too, a whole army of elves that were all waiting for them. Sage Meriel and the two elves that carried the Lanthorn hurried forward to meet the general - General Elhan, she remembered his name - and the other sages. The general shouted something to the army; three of the sages held the Lanthorn up high, and all of the sages spoke an incantation -

The Lanthorn lit up like a beacon.

The air shimmered, and the forest changed. The vague mass of trees and shrubbery and misty darkness ahead of them seemed to melt away, and instead there was a cluster of giant trees ahead of them, trees that were large enough to hold an entire city on their branches. There were platforms and houses and bridges, and so many lights that at first glance, the city sparkled, but then Imoen saw the plumes of smoke, smelled the burning, and heard the screams and the sounds of battle.

It was the city of Suldanessellar, and it was on fire.

-.-.-

Anomen clutched the war hammer the elves had supplied him with, grateful that he would not, after all, go unarmed into battle, and hurried towards Ember and Minsc. The giant ranger wore as serious an expression as Anomen had ever seen on him, while Ember appeared as eager for bloodshed as she had been when she was fighting in the Drow pits.

He could not blame Lady Irlana and Sir Goren for their concerns. They saw only what was to be plainly seen, and knew as little of Ember as anyone who might have beheld him as Bodhi's thrall might have known of him. They had not spoken with her, and could not see what he knew in his heart; they could not be expected to understand why he must stay by her side.

 _"Do not die," she had instructed him in the bright morning at the ancient temple. She had been calm, almost sane; one might imagine the beast within her had withdrawn a little after its outburst during the night. "You cannot stop me if you are dead."_

He looked at her now, worn down to nothing and yet raring for battle, bright anger in all of her being. Her gaze was fixed on her scimitar, hanging from Anomen's belt; he unhooked it and presented it to her. "Whatever happens this night," he said quietly, "know that I love you yet."

She did not acknowledge his words, but such a gesture was not to be hoped for. She snatched the blade from his hand and turned towards the burning city.

Moments later, the army charged.


	72. Chapter 143: Suldanessellar

**Chapter 143: Suldanessellar**

Entering the city of Suldanessellar was like stepping into a nightmare.

Monstrous creatures ran wild through the city, assaulting the terrified elves, setting fire to their delicate buildings, and trying to tear down the bridges that linked their city together. Golems lumbered about on the larger platforms, their fists smashing everything within their reach. Some elves were trying to climb down the giant treetrunks that supported their city; others fell, screaming. Falling leaves, some of them burning, whirled around them on a hot, smoky wind.

"Foreigners! Stay close to me!" General Elhan shouted to Mazzy. He bellowed further commands in Elvish, and the army split up into groups before charging into the chaos ahead of them; only a dozen warriors and the sage Meriel remained. "Follow now," the general commanded. "We will secure the Temple and seek the aid of the Leaflord. This madness of Irenicus must be stopped!"

"What about the fires?" Mazzy shouted.

"My people will quell them," came the reply. "Hurry!"

She and her friends followed the general towards a bridge which was besieged by trolls. As their forces advanced, the creatures on the bridge howled and gibbered at them through the smoky haze, somehow almost sounding like they were laughing. "They will not laugh when they meet the sword of justice!" Minsc shouted, charging towards their foes with his blade held high, Ember and the elven warriors close behind him. Howling laughter was quickly replaced with angry battlecries and shrieks of pain; with blades and spells and acid-tipped arrows, the trolls were destroyed.

"Strange," General Elhan said, nudging a fallen troll with his foot. "Never have I seen common trolls that did not fear flames."

"The magecraft of the Exile," one of the other elves said.

"One wonders what else he has wrought," the general said grimly. "Onwards!"

It was not just the trolls, Mazzy realized as they moved deeper into the city. Being raised in Trademeet, she had learned all too well in her youth what fire would do to a city of wood, and what she saw here did not add up. "These flames... the city should be burning to the ground, trees and all," she told her friends as they ran. "It should be far hotter; the smoke and fumes should be choking us. We should not be able to be here."

"Maybe it's not really a fire," Imoen suggested.

"Give me but a moment," Anomen panted, "and -"

"HALT!" General Elhan shouted. They had arrived at a massive platform, which held one of the largest buildings Mazzy had seen in the city: tall, many-spired, and, even now, lit by numerous torches. Several elven warriors were already outside the building, standing passively not far from where a massive adamantite golem was pulling a smaller building apart. The general shouted something to them, upon which they did draw their weapons, but instead of advancing upon the golem, they charged towards Elhan.

"Arvoreen, what is this madness?" Mazzy cried. The other elves fell upon them, engaging their fellow troops in close combat but avoiding herself and the humans; in an instant, telling friend from foe became all but impossible. Wood trembled beneath her feet. _The golem!_

"Mazzy! Assist me," Anomen called out beside her. She turned and saw that the young cleric had a firm grip on Ember's arm, restraining her from attacking the elves. Mazzy seized her other arm. The girl snarled; Anomen released her, spoke a hurried prayer of seeing, then a prayer of dispelling -

The features of one of the elves shimmered and melted away, revealing the feline visage and odd hands of a rakshasa.

Ember tore herself free from Mazzy's grasp and ran towards the rakshasa, shoving elves aside in her eagerness to assault the creature, even as prayers from Anomen and Sage Meriel unmasked the rest of their foes. Mazzy made for one of the closer rakshasa - a lesser mage, a Rajah, if attire was to be trusted - and dealt a crippling slash to his knee; one of the elves followed her charge, and ran his blade through the Rajah's chest.

 _One down._

Mazzy started towards another Rajah, only to be knocked down by a blast of lightning; stunned, she struggled to catch her breath as tiny sparks crackled down her limbs. The air burned her throat and brought water to her eyes - more magic? She twisted to the side and stabbed a dagger through a catlike foot, then brought her sword up to strike the body above it; the air turned sweet once more as she dodged and darted between the fighting bodies that surrounded her, making her way to the edge of the fray. Some of the fires had been extinguished, but there were still more than enough blazes to light the battlefield: she saw Minsc, battling the giant golem alongside a group of elves; she saw her other friends; she saw a rakshasa Maharajah, working foul spells from within the shelter of a doorway.

She hurried towards the Edwin. "Look to the doorway," she told him; he did, and his eyes narrowed at the sight. "Can you draw his attention?"

"(Can I?)" The Red Wizard laughed derisively, and flung a dispelling curse at the Maharajah. It was answered with a bolt of lightning that washed harmlessly over Edwin, and as he countered with a barrage of acid globules, Mazzy carefully moved forward. She was almost within reach of the Maharajah when she was noticed; catlike eyes glared at her, and he raised a hand, crackling with barely restrained lightning - and in the next moment, Edwin's spells stripped the Maharajah's defenses. She lunged forward and struck true, stabbing her blade through gut and lung and heart. The Maharajah died, and the fires around them dwindled, becoming little more than the smouldering embers of a dropped torch.

"I knew it!" Imoen cried gleefully somewhere behind Mazzy. "Come on, there's another!"

Moving towards the gates of the temple, Mazzy saw the adamantite golem lumber after one of the elven captains, a young woman who stood on the edge of the platform with a glowing sword in her hands. At the last possible moment, the captain leaped out of the way, leaving the golem tottering on the brink. "Back to the dirt you go!" Minsc, cried, his voice carrying over the din of battle as he and the elves gave the golem a powerful shove. The golem stumbled forward, crashed through the rails, and plummeted to the ground below, where it shattered with a loud crash that almost drowned out the cheers of its vanquishers.

More and more fires vanished as the rakshasa fell. The largest group of them stood clustered in front of the temple gates, defending it with lightning and ice and noxious spells, but without their illusions and their golem, they, too, were brought down. As soon as the last Rajah fell, General Elhan and three of his warriors rushed forward and pushed the gates open; Mazzy and the others ran inside, spurred on by the sounds of screams and roars, and entered an immense chamber that was littered with shattered furnishings. A drow female stood in the middle of the room, watching as three summoned fiends menaced a group of wounded elves who lay scattered across the floor; one of the elves, a woman wearing what must once have been ornate robes, was bound to an altar at the far side of the chamber.

Several of the elven warriors cried out in outrage, and a group of them ran towards the altar. The drow laughed and threw a fireball in their path; heat swept through the room and then dissipated as numerous mages, both elven and human, countered the spell. The drow shouted something, and across the room, the fiends ceased harassing their victims and moved to attack the newcomers. Joining ranks with the elven warriors, Mazzy and Minsc moved to confront the fiends while the room around them echoed with the sound of prayers and incantations. Protective spells washed across the room and were stripped away moments later, bathing the chamber in an eerie, wavering light as Mazzy moved to flank one of the fiends; she was about to slash its leg tendons when the monster suddenly halted and looked around as if in confusion. It spotted Mazzy and swiped at her with long, clawed fingers, grunted once, and vanished.

Mazzy blinked in confusion. "What just happened?"

"Ember happened," Edwin said. Mazzy turned to the center of the room and saw Ember, covered in spattered blood, crouching over the drow's body. In one hand, she clutched her blade. In the other, she held the drow's severed head.

-.-.-

The woman bound to the altar was the high priestess of the temple. She had fared better than many of her fellows; once she was cut free, her injuries proved to be slight, and she stood tall in her tattered robes as she spoke with General Elhan and his warriors. Mazzy saw the high priestess look at her and her friends while she spoke with the general, and was not surprised when they were approached next.

"I welcome you to our city, strangers, and I thank you for your assistance," the high priestess said. She looked at Ember, who was being held still by Anomen and Minsc, then at Imoen. "I am Demin. General Elhan has told me of your involvement. I am deeply sorry for what was done to you; this matter has had consequences we never imagined. Please, come with me."

They followed Demin to the center of the room. She kneeled in front of the altar, and retrieved a talisman shaped like a branching tree from a hidden compartment beneath it. "The Exile has taken Ellesime into the Great Palace, and sealed it," she told them. "I was preparing to summon the Leaflord to our aid when the temple was overrun." She cleared some charred fabric and twine from the top of the altar, and placed the talisman on it. "Iliana?" she called out in a louder voice, and the elven captain who had lured the golem approached. They exchanged a few quiet words in Elvish, and the captain placed her blade, which glowed with an inner light, on the altar beside the talisman.

"We must wait for the final token," the high priestess said. The floor trembled and groaned beneath them.

"Boo did not like that," Minsc said worriedly.

"What was that?" Mazzy asked.

"The Exile is at the Tree of Life, at the very heart of the city. It is a living symbol of everything we are; he seeks to usurp its power, as he did once before. That tremor was merely a warning of what is to come."

"Is that why he became 'the Exile'?" Imoen asked. "Elhan wouldn't tell us anything."

"Forgive Elhan his hesitation. I will explain, and hope you will understand our reluctance to speak of this." Demin sighed. "The Exiles were not always as they are. He... he was the greatest of our mages, as skilled as any of elven blood could be without divine assistance. He even had the favor of the Queen. Unfortunately, it was not enough."

"It never is with his kind," Anomen said. "Would it be enough if he did get all he wanted?"

Demin looked at him, and slowly shook her head. "His sister was not quite as regarded, but she held great influence over him, and she was insatiable. Together they sought more than was possible; they wished the power of the gods, and they were not concerned about the consequences. He performed a dark ritual upon the Tree of Life, seeking to merge his own essence with the tree. He failed, but his ritual disrupted our connection to land and nature. Great tremors ran through the city, and many of our weaker citizens lay near death. It was... That he would endanger so many for their selfish goals was one thing, but to threaten the the very nature of what makes us who we are... it was unfathomable!"

"Why weren't they killed outright?" Edwin asked. "It would have saved us all a lot of trouble."

"It fell to Queen Ellesime to judge the crime, and she was harsh. Having forsaken everything elven, they were to be outcast. She petitioned the gods, and a divine curse was placed upon the Exiles. Their connection to the elven spirit was severed."

"You did **what**?!" Imoen cried.

"Ellesime thought it a punishment worse than death. They would live no longer than humans, and be barred from our afterlife. Our hope was that they would learn to appreciate what they had lost, perhaps learning humility, and seek to make amends."

"So you cut them loose, and instead of reforming they plotted revenge," Edwin said. "How surprising."

"We had hoped this would turn out better," Demin said. "I have no way to measure the cost of our decisions on you. Reparations will be made, if there is anyone left here to make them. I... I am still in shock that this happened. So much of our defenses were away, battling the drow. We were left weak, and the Exile... he is stronger than he ever was." She glanced at Ember. "I never would have dreamed that he had restored himself with the soul of another."

Imoen laughed bitterly. "Trees, people, what's the difference to him?"

Across the chamber, cheers went up at the return of General Elhan. One of his warriors held high a golden chalice.

"They have the chalice!" Demin cried. The warrior with the chalice handed it over to her, and she hurried to place it on the altar beside the sword and the talisman. Everyone else stepped back from the altar as the high priestess began to chant. A deep rumbling seemed to come from the altar, and small green specks appeared in the air around it - oak leaves, whirling around the altar on a wind that was not there. More and more leaves came into being, surrounding the altar in a moving cloud of green that smelled like the forest.

The cloud became a presence.

 _THE AVATAR OF THE GREAT OAK STANDS BEFORE YOU,_ a deep voice said in Mazzy's mind. _WHAT TRANSPIRES HERE THAT REQUIRES THE ATTENTION OF THE LEAFLORD?_

The high priestess said something in elvish.

 _AH... THE EXILE HAS RETURNED,_ the voice responded. _HE WHO ONCE WAS OF THE ELVES BUT IS NO LONGER SURVIVES YET. ONCE AGAIN HE COMMITS HIS SACRILEGE AGAINST THE TREE OF LIFE. HE HOLDS SHE WHO IS OF MY BLOOD IMPRISONED WITHIN CORRUPTION. HE USES HER LINK TO THE TREE TO DRAIN ITS POWER._

 _I CANNOT TOUCH HIM._

All around Mazzy, the elves cried out in outrage and dismay.

 _ **RISE, SPIRITS!**_ the voice boomed. _**IT IS I, RILLIFANE RALLATHIL OF THE SELDARINE, WHO CALLS YOU! DEFEND OUR CHILDREN THIS DAY!**_

The walls of the temple seemed to blur as dryads, wisps and other forest spirits emerged from the living branches that were entwined in the building. They headed straight for the gates and the outside, where - judging by the sudden change in battle sounds - many more of their kind had already joined the fight.

 _THE SPIRITS OF THIS WOOD WILL DESTROY THE EVIL THAT THE EXILE HAS BROUGHT INTO OUR MIDST. THE EXILE HAD BLOCKED THE GATES TO THE GREAT PALACE. I HAVE UNSEALED THEM. FREE SHE WHO IS OF MY BLOOD FROM HIS CORRUPTION, AND SHE WILL SEVER THE LINK HE USES. DO THIS, AND YOU MAY DEFEAT HIM._

 _ONLY SHE WHO IS LOST CAN DESTROY HIM._

The elves turned as one to look at Ember.

"(No pressure, of course,)" Edwin muttered.

 _I CAN DO NO MORE. GO._

The presence faded away, and the whirling cloud of leaves slowed down and vanished. The temple was silent.

"Well," Imoen said, "what are we waiting for?"


	73. Chapter 144: The Tree of Life

**Chapter 144: The Tree of Life**

The tree that stood at the heart of the elven palace easily dwarfed every other tree in the city. In its own right, it could have supported an entire village, and its widespread, tangled branches were more than thick enough to serve as walkways. There were no buildings in it that Anomen could see, and no bridges but those that linked the tree to the rest of the palace. A wavering, shadowy form stood on the far side of the closest bridge; the projected image of a woman.

"The queen!" General Elhan exclaimed. He led them all across the bridge, and kneeled before the projection.

"Elhan!" the queen cried in relief. She said something in Elvish, then halted when Anomen and his companions caught her attention. "Outlanders. The godchild is with you?" The projection's gaze moved to Ember. "He claimed to have slain you, but I feel the bond," the queen said. "It is with your power he is doing this!"

"By the Leaflord's word, only she can destroy the Exile," General Elhan said, "but you, my Queen, must be freed first."

"I am held at the center of the Tree, within a cage of corruptive magics," the queen said. "He is drawing power from the Tree into himself; there are... parasites on the Tree, draining it for him. They feed him the power, and maintain my cage. I cannot stop him while they live."

"We will find them, my Queen."

"I will hold his attention while you destroy the parasites. Once they are gone, I can sever his link to the Tree. That which he has stolen from the Tree will be torn from him; I know not what effects this will have... it may kill us all. But he will be weakened, and hopefully disoriented. It will be the best chance to defeat him."

"We ought to, perhaps, bring Ember directly to you," Anomen suggested, "that we may strike immediately when the cage falls."

"Yes. Elhan will tell you the way," the queen said. "Go now, and act quickly; I can feel the Tree dying! You **must** stop him!"

The projection faded away.

General Elhan turned to Mazzy. "I place the fate of my people in your hands," he said. "The straightest course of this bough will lead you to the center. May the gods be with you."

"And with you," Mazzy said.

The elves left on adjoining branches, and their group set out for the heart of the tree. As convoluted as the tree's limbs were, their path was easily recognizable; even without instructions from the general, the direction of Ember's riveted gaze would have been guidance enough. They ducked under wayward twigs and climbed over crossing branches, moving ever deeper into the dense canopy until the foliage gave way to a large, empty space around the bole of the tree. The interwoven branches underfoot effectively created a platform in the open space, and on that platform, nestled against the main trunk itself and easily measuring twenty paces across, was a cocoon of magic. Leaves that fell from the upper reaches of the tree and struck the magical barrier immediately burned away, each creating a little spark of light in its demise.

Ember lunged forward, eager to attack the cocoon; it took the combined strength of Anomen and Minsc to restrain her. "Not yet!" Anomen cried. "Not while his spells linger!"

She growled in response. Her body was as rigid as the boughs of the tree, and black streaks seemed to swirl within her eyes.

 _Not now! Not this close!_ "Do not yield!" he commanded her, releasing his grip just long enough to cast a ward from evil on her.

"Ember! You know what'll happen if you let it take over now?" Imoen asked, kneeling beside her sister. "You won't ever get what you want, and you know what else? You'll die, and **I'll beat you.** Is that what you want?"

The darkness in Ember's eyes faded a little. She slumped back and howled in frustration.

"Thank you," Anomen murmured to Imoen.

"Let's just hope the elves hurry," she replied.

"The sphere just changed," Edwin said. "Look. (Or for that matter, listen.)"

The cocoon of magic had become somewhat translucent. A tall figure could be seen inside, and although slightly muffled, they could hear the voice of the queen, speaking in Elvish.

"Do not speak that tongue to me," a man's voice said. It was a voice Anomen recalled well from Spellhold.

"Joneleth..."

"And do not call me that! You stripped me of everything elven; should that not include both name and tongue?"

"What shall I call you instead? 'Irenicus'? 'Shattered One'?" The queen's voice carried a little better than before. "Yes... it was a terrible punishment. But you violated everything we hold dear. You nearly destroyed us all! And for what? Power? Is that all that you exist for now, Jon?"

Irenicus laughed. "What else could there be for me?"

"The Tree touched you once, long ago. Do you remember nothing of it? Is there nothing in your heart that remembers love? **Our** love? What we shared before this obsession doomed you?"

"She doesn't know," Imoen muttered.

"No, Ellesime. I do not remember your love," Irenicus said. "I tried to recreate it, to spark it anew in my memory. But it is gone... a hollow, dead thing. For years, I clung to the memory of it. Then the memory of the memory. And then nothing. The Seldarine took that from me, too!"

"I... I thought -"

"I look upon you and I feel nothing. I remember nothing but you turning your back on me, along with all the others," Irenicus snarled. "Once my thirst for power was everything, but now... now I hunger only for revenge. And... I... WILL... HAVE IT!"

At that very moment, the magical barrier wavered, then vanished utterly.

"What... who... WHO DARES?!" Irenicus cried.

The queen, who had been bowed over the stump of a severed branch, stood up straight and made a gesture. Irenicus fell to his knees, screaming, and the very branches they stood upon lurched and heaved as waves of power washed through the tree.

Ember tore herself free and scrambled over the twisting branches towards Irenicus.

"You!" Irenicus lashed out and knocked Ember off her feet with a bolt of magic. "You little insect, how dare you? Did you forget that I still wield your power, if not that of the Tree?" he asked, layer upon layer of spell protections enveloping him as he spoke.

"Forget? We're here to take it back!" Imoen shouted.

"For Ember!" Minsc roared, and charged at Irenicus. He got little further than Ember did before he, too, was stopped; Irenicus froze him with a stunning Word, then lashed out at them all with a roaring blast of ice. Spells cascaded forth from Irenicus's fingers with a nigh-terrifying ease and speed, and what was not aimed at them all was aimed directly at Ember. Struggling to stand, Anomen prayed for every bolster he knew of for her and their friends, and felt his courage rise as Mazzy beseeched her own god for assistance.

The branches twisted and buckled underfoot, and torrents of hailstones and shredded leaves lashed through the air. The spells that protected Irenicus shimmered and flickered as Imoen, Edwin, and the elven queen worked to strip his defenses, but their foe was warding himself anew even as he assaulted them with his magics; as true as Mazzy's aim was, the enchanted arrows she shot at him did him no harm. Dodging stunbolts and curses, Ember managed to get close enough to slash at Irenicus, but he seized her blade with a warded hand and snapped it in half before brutally kicking her away. Laughing, their enemy intoned the first syllables of -

 _No!_

Moving as fast as his legs could permit, Anomen ran towards Ember. There was a blur of movement beside him, and just as he reached her, he was forcefully pushed aside. A blinding flash of light, an acrid smell, and Minsc lay unmoving by his side, struck by the full force of Irenicus's Death spell.

One of Mazzy's arrows finally struck true. Irenicus's defenses were breached. Ember charged once more, wielding her broken sword like a dagger; Irenicus seized her by the throat and held her aloft, rendering her helpless while he throttled her, but still she attempted to slash at him, and he laughed wildly, oblivious to the spells and arrows that struck him. Anomen rushed at Irenicus and was flung aside with the casual contempt that a giant might show a gnat -

Irenicus gasped in pain.

Ember's broken blade was embedded in his chest.

"You... **you** k-killed me..." Irenicus wheezed, falling to his knees but still not releasing his grip on Ember's throat, not even when she pulled her blade from his chest and stabbed him again and again, not even when blood poured from his mouth, not even when the darkness in Ember's eyes was supplanted by a flash of golden fire. "T-this is not..." he groaned, "this... is not..."

The hailstorm dissipated. The branches ceased their thrashing. Irenicus fell, and Ember fell with him.

"(Imoen?)"

Edwin's frantic shouts rang in Anomen's ears as he made his way back to Ember and pulled her away from her tormentor's corpse. Her body was utterly limp; she was not breathing, he must -

No heartbeat.

In her glassy gaze, neither darkness nor flames, nor... life.

She was gone.

-.-.-

Their fallen were laid out on beds in one of the chambers of the palace. Ember and Imoen lay as if sleeping, with sheets covering their bodies but not their faces. Minsc was wrapped in herbed linens, along with his hamster; Mazzy and Anomen had insisted that their remains not be separated.

"It is as your wizard says," High Priestess Demin said. "The women are, indeed, not dead."

"(I told you,") Edwin muttered, fidgeting nervously. "(Bhaalspawn don't die like that.)"

Anomen looked at Ember and Imoen. They had attempted resurrection spells, healing spells, restoration spells... naught of which had had any more effect on them than on poor, brave Minsc. "What are they, if not dead?" he asked.

"We do not know," the high priestess said helplessly. "We understand too little of the Exile's magecraft, but we fear... we fear their state is linked to his. They are not dead, and the Exile is not alive. That is all we can say."

 _It is not yet over. Her ordeal has not ended._ "Where are they?" Anomen whispered.

"Beyond our reach. All we can do is wait," the high priestess said. "I am sorry."

The high priestess left them to attend to the queen. Edwin stomped from the chamber, grumbling loudly about insufficiencies and ineptness, and wiping his eyes. Mazzy approached Anomen and offered to sit with him; he declined the offer. "I will not stay long," he assured her.

When only he and the two attending elves remained in the chamber, Anomen seated himself beside Ember's bed. Her eyes were closed, and her face peaceful; other than her lack of breath, she truly did seem to be sleeping.

 _And so we wait._

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and began reciting his tenets.


End file.
